Dark Enough To See The Stars
by Lakshimbai
Summary: NOW COMPLETE: Third in a series. Horatio and Frankie have to deal with an event that will challenge them and their relationship to their limits.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Frankie and the plot. Believe me, things would be very different, if I owned Horatio and co!

A/N: This is the third installment of the _Just Another Fed_ series. What started as a one off story has turned into a bit of an epic! This will be less cased based than _Trouble in Paradise_, because there will be enough for Frankie and Horatio to cope with. As expected, everything is not as straight-forward as it seems, after all it is Miami!

The title comes from a quote by historian Charles Beard. The proper quote is 'When it is dark enough, you can see the stars' and it seemed to fit this story. It will get very dark for Horatio and Frankie, but it is only because of the darkest moments that we can appreciate what we really have.

Enjoy, and as always please, please review and tell me what you think.

* * *

Alexx was worried. There was no point trying to lie to herself, she thought, she might as well admit it. She was worried about Frankie. She hadn't been herself for the last month or so, and people were beginning to notice. Especially when Horatio just shrugged off any comment on the matter. Alexx was determined to get to the bottom of this particular mystery and headed off to find back up. After all, she considered, Frankie was far more likely to give in and share what the problem was if she was faced with her two best friends. 

Calleigh readily agreed to the plan, and they found Frankie in her office, flicking through some paperwork on the latest case. She looked up and smiled as they entered. "Hey guys, what's up?"

Alexx, after a brief glance at Calleigh, spoke first. "We just needed a word with you. Privately."

Frankie instantly beckoned them further into her office, and Calleigh shut the door, ensuring no one could hear what was said. "Is everything all right? What's going on?"

"Are you all right?" Calleigh asked, touching her friend's arm lightly. "You've been acting strangely for the last few weeks, and Alexx and I are worried."

"Strangely?" Frankie stalled.

"You're really quiet, but if anyone mentions it you become the life and soul of the party for about ten minutes, and then, when you think no one will notice, you go really quiet again."

"And you don't come out with us anymore, you've always got an excuse of some description, and we're worried!" Calleigh finished for Alexx.

"Sugar, we're your friends, and we're concerned about you. If there's something wrong, we'd like to help." Alexx leaned forward to emphasise her point.

Frankie shifted awkwardly in her seat. The lesson from this was obviously she was not meant for undercover work. Lying was not her strong point, even lying by omission. Superstition sounded silly now she might have to explain it.

Alexx took her silence for unwillingness to talk. "Even Horatio is acting strangely. He won't listen to us when we ask if you're all right, and he is distracted most of the time, as though he can't concentrate. Now that's just not Horatio."

Sighing, Frankie hung her head. "All right, I'll explain. There's nothing wrong with me, I'm absolutely fine. In fact," she added, a smile creeping across her face, "you could say that I'm as healthy as any woman ever gets."

"What do you mean?"

Frankie laid her hand on her stomach and waited expectantly. Alexx and Calleigh realised at the same time and squealed in delight, both pulling her into a tri-cornered hug. "You're pregnant?" Calleigh asked, already sure of the answer. Frankie nodded, biting her lip. "So why on earth didn't you say so?"

"It's bad luck to say anything before the first three months are passed," she explained ruefully. "At least, that's what my mom always said. It may be silly, but I just don't want to risk anything where this baby is concerned."

"Horatio does know, right?" Alexx was smiling now, her worries past.

Frankie arched one eyebrow. "Do you really think he'd ever forgive me if I didn't tell him instantly?"

"How far along are you?"

"Two months."

"So that would make it…." Calleigh paused as she did some mental calculation, "when you were on honeymoon?"

"Yep. Turns out Paris is _really_ romantic," Frankie said, smiling widely.

"Wow." Calleigh leant back and grinned at her friends. "One final question: can we be godmothers?"

* * *

Horatio was staring at the evidence in front of him, trying to focus. The bloody shirt in front of him probably held the key to this case, but he simply couldn't concentrate. All he could think of was his wife – and it still gave his a glow of pleasure to think of Frankie as _his_ wife – and their child. Their child. He smiled to himself as he thought that. Boy or girl? He didn't much care, but he had a feeling that it might be a girl. His daughter. Every time he mentioned that to Frankie, she only shook her head and laughed, but he was convinced it would be a girl. 

He wanted to shout the knowledge from the rooftops, but he had given in, as he did to anything she asked of him, and agreed not to say anything for the first three months. Still, it was increasingly hard not to say anything, especially as it was all he could think about. Shaking his head, he tried once again to focus on the shirt in front of him. It was dove grey, almost exactly the same shade as Frankie's eyes. Would their child take after her more or him? He hoped she took after her mother.

Grimacing at his own foolishness, he blinked a couple of times, determined to do some work this time. He was actually beginning to get somewhere when Alexx interrupted him.

"Congratulations sugar," she said, laughing at the speed at which Horatio jerked around to look at her. She hurried to explain, "Calleigh and I dragged it out of her, and don't worry, we've promised to keep it quiet." A little more seriously she added, "I'm thrilled for you, really I am."

A slow smile lit his features. "Not as thrilled as I am, Alexx."


	2. Chapter 2

Horatio was delayed again getting home from work. He made a promise to himself that when the baby – _his_ baby – was born, things would change. He wasn't so stupid as to believe he could stop work altogether, but it wasn't unfeasible to cut down the amount of time he spent at the lab, or to stop volunteering to be on call so often. He would take his turn at working over Christmas, as opposed to always volunteering to work. He had done that to allow those with families the time off to spend with their loved ones, but now he had his own family to think of. Besides, he thought ruefully as he pulled up outside his house, Frankie probably would have words to say about him working over every holiday anyway.

He found her curled up on the settee, looking through a couple of photo albums. She looked up when he came in and smiled so brightly he caught his breath. So beautiful, he thought with a small degree of self-satisfaction. Frankie patted the settee and he sat down next to her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"So much for secrecy," he teased. "Alexx came looking for me to say congratulations and Calleigh kept hugging me throughout the day. And yes," he added at her sudden snort of laughter, "that was as embarrassing as you're imagining."

She shrugged. "They dragged it out of me. And I still didn't actually say the words, so it's still OK."

He laughed. "I don't mind, sweetheart. In fact, I'd quite like to tell everyone. I won't until you're happy to though."

"It's a silly superstition, but I just want everything to be perfect." She gestured to the photo album. "We kept to the traditions for our wedding, and that turned out perfectly, so I figure we should keep on sticking to the rules."

He laughed again, kissing the top of her head lightly. "Whatever makes you happy. Some of the traditions you insisted on were a little extreme though."

"I don't know what you mean," Frankie giggled, a little self-consciously.

"Well, you spent three days choosing the wedding cake and then refused to eat any of it."

"Old Romany gypsy tradition has it that if you eat any of your own wedding cake, your first child will die."

"You're not a gypsy," he reminded her good-humouredly.

"Better safe than sorry." She flipped over the page of the album and laughed out loud. "I'd forgotten about Frank's attempt at the mambo." The photo she was looking at showed Frank on the floor in an undignified heap, on top of Eric, after a drunken attempt at a complicated step. Eric claimed it was attempted murder, and that he was permanently disabled. Calleigh had solved the problem by getting both men another drink.

"It was a good party," Horatio chuckled.

"Good? It was brilliant! And leaving disposable cameras around for everyone to take random party photos was an inspired idea of yours," Frankie replied. She snuggled a little closer to him. "I thought Frank's speech was hilarious."

Horatio huffed slightly. "He could have been a little kinder to me."

"As best man, it's his duty to embarrass the groom." Frankie giggled again. "My dad was there to embarrass me, Frank was there to embarrass you. And they both did their jobs extremely well," she finished. Her father had thoroughly embarrassed her by producing a tape of her, when she around six years old, singing in a school concert. She had been thoroughly mortified.

"It was the perfect day though," Horatio said softly.

"Yeah," she sighed, happily lost in the memories. A thought occurred to her. "Hey, was it better than your first wedding?"

Horatio rolled his eyes. "Infinitely. Apart from anything else, I was marrying the right person this time."

She winced at the abruptness of his tone. "Sorry, let's just change the subject, huh?" His ex-wife was still a touchy subject, and Frankie often wondered if he'd ever really talk about her. His natural reticence combined with his gentlemanly instincts not to say anything bad about a woman behind her back, and that left Frankie with very little information about her. One day, she vowed, she was going to find this woman and kick her repeatedly for hurting him. And then thank her for divorcing him so he was free when he met Frankie.

She was silent for a moment as she tried to think of a different subject. Infuriatingly, while she could chat for hours when there was no pressure, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. Horatio saved her. "When date is your first scan? I don't want to miss that."

"Two weeks," Frankie smiled softly at the though of seeing their child for the first time. "Mom's already said she wants a copy of the photo."

He smirked slightly. "Victoria's really excited about being a grandmother, isn't she?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Frankie snorted with laughter. "Was it the six baby books she sent through, or the fact she's taken up knitting, or the way she has already told everyone she's ever met that she's going to be a gran?"

He echoed her laughter softly and hugged her tight. "I still can't believe my luck sometimes."

"Neither can I."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, you're the one who got lucky. Not me at all."

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." Frankie looked up at him, suddenly serious. "And I did get lucky. I'm married to the loveliest, most wonderful man in the world, and I'm pregnant with his child. Life couldn't be any better, and I don't ever want you to doubt that."

He looked at her disbelievingly, but was prevented from saying anything by Frankie's sudden yawn. "Go to bed Chess."

"What about you?" All at once, Frankie was exhausted. She stood up. "Are you coming?"

He shook his head. "I've still got some reading to catch up with. Sleep well, sweetheart." She smiled and turned towards the bedroom, but he caught her hand and pulled her back towards him. Leaning forward, he kissed her still-flat stomach gently. "Sweet dreams, little one. I can't wait to meet you."

Frankie made it to the bedroom before she allowed the tears to fall. And he thought _he_ was the lucky one?


	3. Chapter 3

They were interrupted at breakfast by a call from Frank Tripp with news of another crime scene. Alexx had already been called in and would meet them there. Unusually, they already had three people claiming to be the assailant. Horatio tried to persuade Frankie that he could drop her off at the lab, but had to give in and drive them both over to Little Haiti, where the murder had happened.

"It sounds interesting," Frankie shrugged.

"It sounds dangerous," Horatio countered.

"I'm pregnant, not dying." A pained glance was the only reply she got, and Frankie was left with the feeling she had been a little insensitive. Unsure how, or even if, she should apologise, she stayed silent until they reached the scene.

Tripp and the uniformed officers had already cordoned off the scene around the corpse and Frankie ducked easily under the yellow tape. The dead man had been shot twice in the chest and once in the leg, and lay in a crumpled heap just inside the doorway of the building. Looking at the way he was lying, Frankie guessed that he had been shot first in the leg and had almost made it to the safety of the building when he was shot again.

The three apparent murderers stood in a sulky group off to one side, guarded by a group of officers. She ignored them for the moment, and went to talk to Tripp instead. He had obviously just finished briefing Horatio, as the CSI Lieutenant went to greet Eric, just parking the second Hummer. Horatio did give her a small smile though, so she guessed he wasn't too angry with her.

"Who was he?"

"Rafael Hernandez," Tripp replied shortly. "Another gang-banger." His tone left no doubt as to his opinion of the gangs in Miami. "Just another dope pusher who got himself whacked, but we got three people, each claiming they did it alone."

"And who are they?"

"This is where it gets interesting. One's his sister, Sofia, who says he was ruining the family's honour. One is Mick Buchanan, who says Rafael was sleeping with his wife, and the other is Jose Corzal, who is probably his supplier, 'cause he won't give his reason."

"Popular guy," Frankie remarked ironically and Tripp gave a snort of laughter.

"Well, put it like this: he ain't no loss to society."

Frankie laughed and waited for Horatio and Eric to work the scene before she interrupted them. When Horatio looked as though he was nearly done, she tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Can I sit in on the interviews? This one's really interesting."

Horatio hesitated long enough for Frankie to think he would refuse, before nodding. He smiled apologetically at her. "I'm sorry about before – I worry."

"I know." She spoke softly, and placed her hands on his hips, a possessive gesture that both Tripp and Eric noticed. They exchanged affectionate grins as they watched the interchange. "But I still have a job to do. And I worry about you too."

He gave her his most confident grin and kissed her forehead. "I can take care of myself."

"No you can't," she whispered as he walked off. When she though about his childhood, she was still amazed he had turned out as strong as he had. She touched her stomach unconsciously. Their child would have a happy childhood, she swore to herself.

* * *

The first suspect to be interviewed was Sofia. She was a very pretty, young woman, with long brown hair that hung in loose curls down her back. She had obviously been crying, and the odd tear still escaped down her face. Frankie's initial reaction was to be sympathetic, and yet Sofia was only here because she claimed she had shot her brother. But why claim to have committed a crime if she was innocent? It was all most puzzling. 

"What happened this morning?" Frankie asked gently. The last thing they wanted was to spook this witness, and Sofia looked as though she was regretting saying anything at all.

"Rafael and I argued, as we always do. He should not deal drugs. It is shaming," she said insistently.

"Did you always argue about drugs?"

Sofia lifted one shoulder in a shrug that said much about her apathetic relationship with her brother. "We argued about everything. Mainly drugs."

"What else?"

"My boyfriend. Rafa did not like him." Sofia's eyes filled with tears again. "I did not mean for him to be hurt! I did love him. I did," she repeated quietly, as though convincing herself of that.

"What's your boyfriend's name?"

Sofia looked up, startled. "It doesn't matter."

Frankie raised one eyebrow, but changed the subject for the moment. "Tell me about this morning."

"I went to see Rafa, to ask him about our father's birthday party, but he was out. When I went downstairs, I bumped into him. He was high. He had a gun." Sofia frowned fleetingly. "He threatened me with the gun, and I took it off him and shot him. I didn't mean it!" Sofia's story, to Frankie, sounded very rehearsed. She had told it in staccato bursts, as though she had memorised it. The only sentence that had any real emotion in was the final one.

"Why did you shoot him three times?"

"Oh!" Sofia's eyes opened very wide. "Three times?" She caught herself and thought for a second. "I was angry and the gun just went off. I didn't mean it," she repeated.

"Thank you Sofia," Frankie said as she stood up to go. "Stay here for a bit longer, please." She left the interview room shaking her head and found Horatio just emerging from autopsy with Alexx.

"How did it go with Sofia?"

"She's covering up for someone else," Frankie sighed. "My guess would be her boyfriend."

"And who is he?"

She shook her head. "She wouldn't say. I thought I'd see what the others have to say first, before I talk to her again."

Horatio groaned. "So we have three people claiming to be the killer, and the person who probably did it is someone totally different. What a lovely start to the day."

"I warned you about your tendency towards sarcasm," she teased. "Come on, you can escort me to get some tea." She held up her hand as Alexx started to speak. "Don't worry – I meant herbal tea." Horatio bit back a laugh and held her hand as they walked towards the break room. Alexx watched them go, a fond smile on her face.


	4. Chapter 4

Jose Corzal was sprawled in his chair, casually biting his nails. He barely even looked up as Frankie and Horatio entered. Frankie had already agreed that Horatio should be the main interviewer for this one, and stayed silent while Horatio confirmed Corzal's name and address.

"What happened this morning?"

Jose shrugged carelessly. "Don't know."

"You did earlier." Horatio was deliberately short with the man, hoping to provoke a response.

"Earlier was different," Corzal snapped tersely. "Now, I don't know."

"Don't remember or won't say?"

Corzal shrugged again, and looked away, out of the window. After a brief glance at Horatio, Frankie took up the questioning. "Did you know two other people claimed to have shot Rafael Hernandez?"

"Well, it probably wasn't me then," he sneered.

"Don't you want to know who else admitted to it?" While they were waiting on ballistics evidence and trace to come back with results, Horatio and Frankie had both agreed that it seemed unlikely that all three had admitted to the same crime without any link between them. There simply had to be some connection.

Corzal shrugged again in response. Horatio just looked at him. "Sofia Hernandez and Mick Buchanan."

"So?" Corzal sounded nonchalant, but Frankie thought she saw him wince at the first name.

"You know Sofia, don't you?" She spoke quietly and was rewarded by a quick, shocked glance from Corzal, before he resumed his mask of indifference. "You do." Frankie's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "You're her boyfriend."

Corzal's lips twisted, as though he wanted to say something. Horatio leaned back in his seat and smiled grimly. "She thought you did it, didn't she? And you found out she confessed, so you confessed to protect her, but now you know she didn't do it. That's right, isn't it Jose?"

Corzal sighed and nodded. "Sofia knows Rafa and I don't get on. She knows we argue. I found Rafa's body and she saw me standing over him and must have thought I did it." He looked up at Horatio then, met his gaze. "I had to protect my woman. You know what that is like."

Horatio raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded. "You're still going to have to wait for ballistics to confirm your story Mr Corzal, but then you're free to go."

"I thought he was meant to be a supplier," Frankie reminded him, as they left the interview room.

"We have nothing to hold him on, and we can't get a warrant for his place unless we get some evidence," Horatio sighed. "I wonder if Sofia knows, given how she feels about drugs."

"So we're left with Mick Buchanan, the very angry cuckold."

"Well, let's hope he's a better suspect than the other two," Horatio said dryly. Mick Buchanan was the only one who had asked for his attorney. They were conferring quietly when Horatio held the door for Frankie to enter, and they fell silent at their approach.

"Mr Buchanan, I am sorry it's taken so long to get to you, but I am sure you were aware of the odd circumstances this morning," Frankie said smoothly, introducing herself and Horatio. He remained standing, leaning against one of the windows.

"My client wishes it to be noted that he has retracted his statement of this morning," the lawyer said, just as smoothly.

Horatio, still looking out of the window, nodded to himself. "So why did he say he murdered someone?"

"Shock."

Frankie bit her lip to prevent a laugh. She had to hand it to lawyers: they came up with some brilliant stories to help out their clients. Shock rarely made people admit to murder, and certainly didn't provide them with motive for it. "Is your wife having an affair, Mr Buchanan?"

He turned to stare at her, eyes glaring hatred. "None of your business."

Smiling brightly, she replied, "I think it is."

He shook his head, and Horatio said, "It became our business when you claimed that as your motive for murder."

"But my client has already retracted that confession," the lawyer reminded them. "And I have advised my client not to say anything else."

Horatio smiled to himself. Frankie looked at the table as she recognised that smile. It was the one that said he knew he was about to win. "Mr Buchanan's confession, retracted or otherwise, will not matter when his clothes are fully processed. Gunshot residue will prove he was the shooter, and a statement from his wife will clear up whether she was having an affair. So, you can advise your client however you like, I don't think we're going to need his statement."

Buchanan stood up, his chair scraping loudly along the floor. "He slept with my wife!" His lawyer made shushing motions, and tried to calm him down, but it was no good. "He slept with my wife! What was I meant to do? Stand back? Let him take what was mine? Let him humiliate me further?"

"Thank you Mr Buchanan." Horatio finally turned to look at the man. "Take a seat. We'll be back shortly."

When they got outside, Frankie turned to him with a smile. "Remind me never to play poker against you. What GSR are you talking about? His clothes haven't been processed yet!"

He shot her a mischievous grin. "I like to bluff."

"I'd noticed," she replied wryly. She yawned and then grimaced. "This pregnancy thing is really taking it out of me. I hope it's not going to be like this for the next seven months. I'd like to stay awake longer than five hours!"

Horatio looked at her with concern. She did look tired, her eyes shadowed. "Go home and get some rest," he told her gently.

"But…"

"No buts," he said firmly. "I'll call you if we need you. Go on, take advantage of the fact it's a slow day."

"Take advantage of the fact I'm married to the boss, you mean," she grinned.

"That too." She laughed and stretched up to kiss him deeply. He held her tightly, aware that she had become his entire reason for living. "Go on, both of you."

Frankie laughed again. "I was thinking about the name Olivia for a girl."

He tilted his head, giving the idea proper consideration. "I like it. What about for a boy?"

"Not sure. We've still got a while to think up a few options though."

"Chess, go home and get some rest." He watched as the elevator doors closed, smiling to himself. How he ever got this lucky, he would never know.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: A brief warning - there are some unhappy times ahead for Horatio and Frankie, and things are going to get very rough. This chapter is the start of the main plot of this story, and should, hopefully, be very sad. Please let me know what you think, but remember, as with my other stories, I have no actual medical knowledge, so don't complain if things aren't entirely accurate.

* * *

By the Frankie reached their house, she was absolutely exhausted. It took all her energy to simply get inside the door and collapse on the settee. This is getting ridiculous, she thought tiredly, laying her head down on a cushion. Just a twenty minute snooze, she decided, and that would make her feel better. 

When she woke, disorientated for a moment, it took her a couple of seconds to realise she had been asleep for nearly two hours. Rubbing her eyes, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, desperate for a glass of water. A sharp, stabbing pain in her abdomen caused her to double over, gasping at the intensity of the pain. Her hands clutched at her stomach.

"Oh god, please, no," she prayed continually as she tried to stand. She couldn't lose this baby, she couldn't. It would crucify her. Another sharp pain brought her to her knees and she crawled across the floor to where she had thrown her bag. The pain was spreading up into her shoulder, her entire right side now burning with agony. Sobbing, she made it to her bag, and rummaged around until she found her cell.

Trembling, she managed to dial 911. A calm, efficient voice answered. "911, what's your emergency?"

"Ambulance, need an ambulance!" Frankie could barely breathe through the pain. She cried out as a wave of pain washed through her. "Please, help me," she pleaded. She didn't hear the requests for her address as the phone slid from her nerveless fingers. She laid her head down on the floor and wept, her body shaking with the force of her terror.

When the sharp pain faded for a moment, she made a grab for her phone. Hopefully the ambulance was already on its way, so she held down the speed dial for Horatio's cell. He answered almost immediately, sounding so cheerful she burst into fresh tears.

"Frankie! Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Panic quickly replaced his previous good humour.

"Please, need you," she gasped out before another severe, excruciating pain made her cry out.

"I'm on my way. Hang in there, Chess." She hung up and lay there, unable to move, barely able to breathe.

* * *

Horatio didn't remember that drive home, only that he ran to the Hummer, and broke every traffic law to get home as fast as possible. When he pulled up, he was torn between relief and alarm that an ambulance was already outside his house. The paramedics were already inside, and his mind registered absently that they had kicked the door in. Both men were already bent over Frankie's prone body, one fixing an oxygen mask over her face, the other readying the stretcher. 

"What's happened?"

One paramedic looked around. "Who are you?"

"Her husband." He choked as he said that, eyes filling with tears. "She's pregnant." The paramedics exchanged worried glances and got back to work. "Please – what's happening?"

"We'll know more when we get her to the hospital," they reassured him, loading Frankie on to the stretcher and wheeling her towards the ambulance.

In shock, Horatio just stood there while they drove off. Operating entirely on automatic, without any conscious thought, he collected a few of Frankie's things, some pyjamas and toothpaste and similar items, packing them neatly. It was only when he went to pick up his keys that he realised how badly his hands were shaking.

He dialled Alexx's number. "Hey sugar."

"Alexx, I, uh, I need your help." He paused, unsure what had just happened, and unwilling to admit it was as serious as it had looked. "Frankie's gone to the hospital and I need you to drive me there. I'm at home."

Alexx, thankfully, didn't ask any questions, just told him to hang on. She was there in record time, and it was only when Horatio stepped outside, still in that strange, dazed state where he wasn't thinking, that he realised Alexx had been sensible, and got Eric to drive her, sirens and lights blazing.

They kept the siren on all the way to the hospital, Horatio staring blankly out of the window. Eric and Alexx exchanged worried looks, but stayed silent, after Horatio had simply ignored their earlier questions. Alexx, watching him in the rear view mirror, bit her lip. This looked even worse than when Frankie had been shot by the Fuentes brothers. At least then Horatio had been able to function. Now, with the added complication of Frankie's pregnancy, it seemed like he had shut himself off from the world.

When they pulled up at the hospital, Horatio seemed to wake up. He ran in ahead of his friends and they found him at the hospital reception, desperately trying to find someone who could tell him what was happening. A nurse, pulling off blood-stained latex gloves, ushered him into a quiet room.

"How is she?" he snapped.

The nurse looked over at Alexx and Eric. "Do you mind your friends hearing?" At his impatient shake of the head, she continued, "Your wife's having an ectopic pregnancy. She's had to be taken up to surgery, as she's bleeding internally. The doctors are doing all they can, sir, but you're going to have to be patient."

"We've lost the baby?" Horatio asked softly, already knowing the answer.

"I'm afraid so sir." The nurse stood up to go. "Can I get you anything?" Horatio just shook his head, staring at the wall, and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hang in there."

When the nurse had left, Alexx sat down next to Horatio and took hold of his hand. "I am so sorry sugar."

"Frankie was pregnant?" Eric asked incredulously. "Why didn't she say anything?"

"Bad luck, she thought it was bad luck to tell people before the first trimester was over," Horatio snapped. He turned to glare at Alexx. "And maybe if you and Calleigh hadn't pushed her, she wouldn't have told anyone, and we wouldn't be here!" He shook off Alexx's restraining hand and stalked out of the room, muttering, "I need some air."

Eric started to go after him, but stopped when Alexx called him back. "Let him go, honey. He needs some time."

"Calleigh knew as well?"

"Frankie made us promise not to say anything."

Eric nodded, processing the information. "He shouldn't have said that."

Alexx shook her head. "He didn't mean it. Eric, he's just lost his child. Give him a break. This is going to be very hard on both of them." She sighed. "The hardest thing they'll ever have to deal with."


	6. Chapter 6

Horatio was gone for twenty minutes. By the time he returned, Calleigh, Ryan and Frank Tripp had joined the others anxiously waiting in the relatives room. He was pale when he came back, but looked more together than he had when he left. Calleigh was the first to approach him. Without hesitating, she pulled Horatio into a tight hug, her arms around his waist. He hugged her back gently, before disengaging himself and sitting down next to Alexx.

"I think I owe you an apology," he said softly.

Alexx turned to him, her dark eyes suddenly filled with tears, and shook her head. "You are allowed to snap at me, at any of us. We're your friends, and here for you. Just remember that, OK? We are all here for you."

He gave her a very small smile and nodded his thanks. Then, closing his eyes, he tipped his head back to rest against the wall. No one said anything, each unsure what could possibly help. Frank and Alexx exchanged worried looks. As the only parents in the room, they were the only ones who could come close to imagining how Horatio must be feeling.

Frank frowned at his friend. He had been so pleased to see Horatio finally happy. God knows, the man had suffered enough before he found Frankie. As Horatio's best man, he felt some responsibility for helping him deal with this, but he had no idea where to even begin. He cleared his throat and said gruffly, "Can I get anyone a drink? Coffee or something?"

Ryan, looking grateful for something to do, agreed to help and the two left to fetch coffees for the group. Horatio had declined anything. Alexx watched him with concern, but her thoughts were with Frankie. She couldn't bear the thought of losing either of her children, or imagine how painful it was going to be when Frankie was out of surgery, to learn that her own body had betrayed her in killing her child. And it would be little use pointing out that there was no way of knowing where a pregnancy would develop into an ectopic one, or that there was nothing Frankie could have done differently to prevent this.

Frank and Ryan returned with the coffee and they sat there in silence. Calleigh's hand found Eric's, and she clung to him tightly. Still no one said anything, each scared of making the situation worse. Horatio stared at the floor, his eyes snapping to the door whenever a doctor walked past in case they had any news. His stomach felt as though it was tied into a thousand knots, and every single one of those knots twisted nauseatingly when he saw a doctor.

The longer they waited, the worse he felt until he was certain he was about to throw up. Eventually, a doctor came in, looking so serious that Horatio wondered if he'd just been made a widower. Numb, he stared at the doctor, who introduced himself as Doctor Russell, the gynaecological specialist.

"I think we should speak privately Mr Caine."

"She's not dead. She's not dead," he insisted. "She can't be dead."

Doctor Russell winced. "Your wife is not dead Mr Caine, but I really do need to speak to you in private." His friends left without a word, although Alexx gave him a one-armed hug before she left. "You may want to sit down."

* * *

Frankie woke up quite suddenly. One moment, she was totally unconscious, the next utterly awake, and feeling strangely empty. It felt as though she was missing a piece of herself. The baby was gone, she knew that. She had known at the first painful cramp. At the moment, there was no pain, the drugs saw to that, but she was surprised that she was so calm. She had expected that she would be hysterical with grief, but instead she was thinking quite rationally and coolly. 

The door opened and she was confronted by a male doctor, accompanied by a female nurse. They smiled sympathetically at her, and she wanted to throw something. She didn't want their sympathy, she wanted to know exactly what had happened. "I'm Doctor Russell, the surgeon who operated on you, and this is Nurse Sherri Wilkins, who'll be taking care of you while you stay with us."

"Get on with it." She knew she was being rude, but didn't care.

Russell sat down in the chair next to her bed. "Do you want me to get your husband?" Frankie stared at him. She hadn't thought about Horatio at all. Abruptly, she realised she didn't want him with her. She wanted to learn the truth by herself first. When she said as much, the nurse looked awkward and started fiddling with the curtains.

"How bad is it?"

Russell took a deep breath before he spoke. "You had an ectopic pregnancy. That means that the foetus started to develop in your fallopian tube, instead of in the womb as usual. There's no way for an ectopic pregnancy to reach full term. They normally resolve themselves, and the woman might only notice slight bleeding. Most women put it down to a miscarriage."

"Mine wasn't like that."

"No." Russell leaned forward as he spoke, "Mrs Caine, you had severe internal bleeding, as one of your fallopian tubes had ruptured. We had no choice but to remove the tube and the ovary."

It was strange, Frankie thought absently, that only yesterday anyone calling her 'Mrs Caine' would have made her day. She had always been so excited to hear that name. Now she barely noticed. She nodded. "Can I still have children?"

The doctor dropped his gaze to the bed, and Frankie knew she had interrupted before he was done. There was worse to come. "I'm afraid we couldn't stop the bleeding. We tried everything we could, but in the end we had no option but to perform a hysterectomy."

Hysterectomy. The word sat heavily on Frankie's mind. They had removed her womb. She would never have children. Her mother would be so disappointed. She fought the urge to laugh as she thought that. What a thought to be thinking at a time like this! Russell was still talking. "There was nothing you could have done to prevent this from happening, Mrs Caine. The cause of ectopic pregnancies is still a mystery to medicine. We only know a few factors that contribute, but nothing concrete. You did nothing wrong."

She looked away from them, away from the sympathy in their eyes that made her feel sick. Out of the window, the sun was shining. How, she wondered, could the sun be shining on a day like this?

"Do you want me to get your husband now?" Nurse Wilkins asked.

"Hmm? Oh yes, I suppose I need to talk to him." What she would say to him, she didn't know. She did wonder if she was meant to be crying about now. She supposed she was, given that she had just lost her baby. It was strange then, how numb she felt, as though she would never feel anything again.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. Um, things aren't going to cheer up just yet, and Frankie's, well, let's just say she's not going to take this well. Please keep letting me know what you think.

* * *

She was staring out of the window when Horatio entered the room. He walked straight over to her and told hold of her hand. Still, she didn't look at him. She just squeezed his hand, grateful for the warmth of his touch. She felt permanently cold, had done since Doctor Russell had delivered the news.

Horatio perched on the edge of her bed, unsure what to say. How could he explain how he felt? Frankie was going through much worse herself. When Russell had told him they had performed a hysterectomy, Horatio had wanted to weep for her. He needed to be strong for her, he knew, but all he wanted was to sink into her embrace, to lose himself in her love. One look at her blank, emotionless face was enough to tell him how much she was suffering.

"Chess," he said her name as gently as he could. "Chess, please, look at me."

She turned to face him slowly, not wanting to see the grief she had caused him. Blue eyes drenched in sorrow stared at her, but he offered her a small smile. She didn't have one to give back to him.

"Come here," he whispered, pulling her towards him. She went into his arms limply, one hand coming up to clutch at his shoulder. Her head rested on his other shoulder, and she let him hold her. The warmth of his body was comforting, but she sensed he was getting more from this than she was. She was still so numb.

Horatio clung to her, and felt tears fill his eyes. He swallowed hastily, not wanting to burden her with any more than she was already dealing with. It was little use, however, as a stray tear trickled down his cheek. He coughed, trying to hold back more, and ran one hand through her short hair.

"The others are all downstairs."

She pulled away from him sharply. "I don't want to see them. I don't want to see anyone."

He hurried to comfort her. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. They're worried about you, that's all. They care."

She gave a short, derisive laugh. "Worried? What have they got to be worried about? I mean, I've only lost my baby and had a hysterectomy! Why, just another day!"

"Chess," he said warningly, while a wounded inner voice asked when it had changed from 'their' baby to hers alone.

"What?" She turned to him. "What can you possibly have to say to me?" All of a sudden, his grief was suffocating her, drowning her. She had to get away from it. "Just, please, leave me alone. I need some time by myself."

He stood up immediately. "Of course. I wish, Chess, I wish I could make it better."

"Well you can't."

"I know." He closed his eyes, wished things were different. He bent to kiss her, but she turned away, so he dropped a light kiss on the top of her head. He paused at the door, turning back towards her. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied automatically. Hurt and confused, Horatio left her alone.

She should feel guilty for how she had just behaved, Frankie knew, but she didn't seem able to feel anything. Maybe it was just the drugs, she reasoned. She leant back against her pillow and tried not to think of the pain she had just caused her husband. The man she had sworn to love. She did love him, she knew that. But she knew it like she knew the sky was blue. It was a cold, hard fact, not a product of any emotion she could feel.

Sighing, she tried to flick through one of the magazines the nurse had left with her. _Dealing with Grief_. Just what she wanted to read. She settled for just looking at the pictures, wanting something to distract her from the nagging emptiness inside.

* * *

Horatio wasn't sure he could face his friends' sympathy just yet, not so fresh from seeing Frankie. Instead, he stood outside, gulping in deep breaths, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat and the feeling that he had just lost more than a baby. He still had too many things to do to stand there forever, and he decided to get the worst over with first. 

Victoria, Frankie's mother, picked up the phone on the first ring. "Mrs Nelson?"

"Horatio, how many times must I tell you to call me Victoria?"

"Victoria." He tried to smile, but he couldn't. "Victoria, I…"

"Is everything all right?" A sharp note of concern touched her voice.

"Frankie's lost the baby." Unable to stop them, another couple of tears streamed down his face as he said that, his self-control wavering. He still tried to keep from letting Victoria hear though, but he wasn't sure he succeeded.

"Oh god." He could hear her repeating the news to Mark, before she came back on the phone. "We're finding a flight now. Don't worry about anything, we're on our way. You hang in there, all right? How's my Frankie doing?"

"I don't know." He took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to get some control back over himself. "She's in hospital."

"You be strong for her, OK? We're on our way." She paused for a second. "Take care of yourself, sweetie. We'll be there soon." She hung up, leaving him alone again.

His friends were the next priority. They deserved to know what had happened. He walked back into the hospital, determined not to let Frankie down. After all, he reminded himself, she had been through far worse than he had. And he had to be the strong one.


	8. Chapter 8

Frankie gave Nurse Wilkins a disbelievingly look. She had already said she wasn't hungry, that she didn't want to eat anything, but had given in and agreed to look at the food. She stared at the plate again. This was what they tried to tempt her with? She prodded it suspiciously with a fork. The brown goo, which she had been assured was a beef stew, made a sort of _glooping_ noise.

"You don't honestly expect me to eat this, do you?"

"You need to eat something."

"Not this," Frankie said definitely.

"Can I tempt you with this?" Horatio peered around the door to her room. He held out a bag of Chinese takeaway. "Chicken in black bean sauce?"

"It's not very healthy," the nurse began before Frankie interrupted.

"Oh for god's sake, can't you people just leave me alone?" She turned to Horatio with an attempt at a smile. "Thanks."

"Thought you might appreciate some real food," he said, coming to sit next to her. He looked exhausted, she thought, dark circles under his eyes, and a weariness about him that she hadn't seen for many months.

"Thanks," she said again. She fell silent, unsure what to say. Part of her thought she should apologise for what she said before, while a larger, angrier part declared that he had no real idea how she was feeling. The Chinese was a sweet touch, reminding her of the last time she had been in hospital. That time, she considered, the only person she wanted to see was Horatio. Now, she wasn't sure she wanted to see anyone.

Trying a mouthful, she was disappointed to discover that everything, as she had suspected, tasted of ashes. She ate a little more, forcing every mouthful down, before she gave up. Horatio, she noticed, hadn't eaten anything.

"I, uh, I called your parents," he said. "They're on their way."

She blinked a couple of times. It hadn't occurred to her to contact anyone, wanting to be left alone to deal with this in her own way. The thought of her mother, however, made her take a deep breath. All of a sudden, she wanted nothing more than her mother to come and make it all right, as she always had when Frankie was young.

"Thank you," she said, biting her lip. "I hadn't even thought about it."

Horatio touched her hand gently. "You shouldn't have to think about anything. Just concentrate on getting better and I'll take care of everything else."

Anger coursed through her. Get better? How could she get better? She would never recover from this. She swallowed a bitter retort and tried to smile. "Where are Alexx and Calleigh and the others?"

"They've gone back to CSI. Alexx said she'd come around tomorrow if you wanted a visitor." He looked down at the bed sheets. "Do you want to see her?"

"No." She thought for a second. "You don't have to stay, you know. It's late and you've been here all day. Go home and get some rest. And you should go back to work, you know, distract yourself."

He looked up for an instant, and she saw how much she had hurt him. "You don't want me here?" He looked away and stood up to leave. "Chess, I never meant…just say if you don't want to see me."

"I just don't think I'm very good company at the moment." She shrugged, trying to take the sting out of her words. "Go home and get some rest." She hesitated, and then added, "Then come see me tomorrow."

"If that's what you want," he said, sounding more unsure than she had ever heard.

* * *

Victoria was frantic was worry by the time the plane touched down in Miami, her husband scarcely less so. Mark pushed in front of most of the taxi queue, shoving a businessman and his wife out of the way to get to the first taxi. 

"Hey!"

"My daughter's just had a miscarriage," Victoria explained, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she tried to pull Mark back. The retired FBI agent looked ready to murder someone.

The businessman backed off at that comment, and they were soon on their way to the hospital. Victoria managed to get her emotions under control by the time the cab had pulled up outside. Mark went to get out as well, but Victoria stopped him, her hand on his chest.

"Horatio will need someone to talk to. Go find him, and take him out for a drink." When Mark hesitated, she said firmly, "I will take care of Frankie and you can see her later. Go." Mark went.

Frankie had spent the night lying awake, wishing she could sleep. She almost wished she was troubled by nightmares, at least that would mean she had fallen asleep, but she stayed awake, her eyes refusing to stay closed. Staring at the four walls of her room, she had tried to figure out exactly what she was feeling, about the hysterectomy, about the baby, about Horatio.

The only conclusion she had reached was that she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. She was numb, except for the anger. She was angry at just about everybody. Angry at the doctors, who had taken away her womb. Angry at her friends, who had no idea what she was going through. Angry at Horatio, perhaps more than anyone else, because he couldn't make it right. And he had promised to always take care of her. But she was here, in hospital again, and her baby was dead.

The cold, rational part of her, the part which kept reminding her she was meant to be in love with him, told her it wasn't his fault. The rest of her was insistent that someone was to blame, and that Horatio was the most likely candidate. After all, he had gotten her pregnant. She tried not to remember that the two of them had barely been able to keep their hands off each other for the whole of their honeymoon. Closing her eyes, she wished she was back in Paris, back where everything was straight-forward. Where she knew what she wanted.

The door to her room opened, but Frankie turned away. Then the most welcome voice in the world said very quietly, "Frankie?"

"Mom! Oh thank God you're here!" Suddenly, without warning, she was crying. Tears spilled uncontrollably out of her as she clung to her mother's arms. "Mom, I've lost the baby, and everything's gone wrong!"

"Hush now baby, you tell me all about it," Victoria said, stroking Frankie's hair. She held her daughter while she wept, and kept up a stream of comforting words until she was ready to talk.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Sorry for the delay, and for the fact that it's only one chapter, but I went on holiday for a week, and am currently snowed under with work, so I thought I'd give you one chapter to keep you going. The rest will come, never fear, but unfortunately, real life occasionally gets in the way of writing. Life can be so unfair, huh?!

* * *

Mark found Horatio staring at some paperwork in his office. The man looked defeated, and Mark paused for a second, wondering what on earth he was going to say to him. How could he comfort a man who had just lost his child? Mark closed his eyes, unwilling to even countenance the idea of losing one of his daughters. Looking back, Mark was actually grateful he hadn't found out about Frankie's shooting until after he had returned from holiday, and after she had recovered from her injuries. He wasn't sure he would have coped well with her being injured that badly. Certainly, he considered, Horatio would not have escaped unscathed. 

Summoning up his courage, he knocked on the door and went in. "Horatio. How are you?" Mark shook his head. "What a damn silly thing to say. I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry about it all."

Horatio held out his hand and Mark took it. "Thanks for getting here so quickly. I think Frankie really needs her mother."

"She needs you," Mark said, frowning at his son-in-law. He was startled to see Horatio shake his head.

"I don't think she wants to see me."

Mark considered that for a second. Frankie had obviously said something she didn't mean, in the heat of the moment. That would explain Horatio's weariness. The man had always seemed very resilient, but Mark had noticed, with pleasure, that Frankie was deeply important to Horatio. He'd probably be coping a lot better if Frankie hadn't said something daft. It didn't occur to Mark for an instant that Frankie would have meant anything cruel. She loved him far too much. He'd seen that.

"I think we should take my wife's excellent advice, go for several large drinks, and you should tell me what my wayward daughter has said this time," he said with a grin. "Come on, it will do you good."

"I have work to do," Horatio gestured vaguely at the pile of paper on his desk.

Mark took Horatio's arm. "People will understand. You deserve a drink, after everything you've been through in the last day or so."

Giving a reluctant nod, Horatio followed his father-in-law outside, where Mark drove them to one of the bars Mark had found last time he was in Miami. Without asking Horatio, he ordered three large scotches. "Knock one back now," he ordered. When Horatio frowned, but then complied, feeling the fiery liquid burn the back of his throat, Mark smiled. "I imagine you needed that."

A tired smile and Horatio nodded. "You don't know the worst of it yet." Head bowed, he told Mark about Frankie's hysterectomy.

Mark closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "My poor baby girl." He sighed. "So, go on and tell me what she said to you."

"I don't understand sir." Horatio shifted uncomfortably.

"Horatio, you don't need to call me sir! And I know you and my daughter. She's obviously said something hurtful, otherwise there's no way in hell you would have left her alone. So, what did she say?" A wry smile let Mark know he had been right.

* * *

Victoria sat stroking Frankie's hair gently, watching her daughter sleep fitfully. She had finally succumbed to exhaustion about an hour after Victoria had arrived, but that had been enough time to find out that Frankie had had a hysterectomy, and that Horatio was taking much of the blame for this. She shook her head: Frankie didn't know how lucky she was really. After all, she thought sourly, Horatio was infinitely preferable to the idiot her other daughter had married. 

"Oh Frankie, darling, don't lose everything over this," she prayed silently. Making sure Frankie was really asleep, she left to find Doctor Russell.

He was at the nurses' station, chatting with several of the nurses. "Excuse me, Doctor Russell?"

"Yes?"

"My name's Victoria Nelson, I'm Francesca Caine's mother. I'd like to have a quick chat with you about my daughter's condition." The doctor followed her to a quieter corner of the corridor. "When can she go home?"

"She's had a major operation Mrs Nelson. I'm afraid she will probably have to be here for some time."

Victoria frowned. "That's not good enough. She needs to be at home with her husband. What's the earliest she can go home?"

Russell consulted his chart. "If everything's fine, she can go home at the end of the week. But I'd really advise against that. Mrs Caine hasn't responded as we might have hoped. She's very withdrawn, and doesn't want to see anyone, even her husband. I'm not sure home is the best place."

Rolling her eyes, Victoria snorted with derision. "I think I know my daughter a little better than you do. And what woman would wake up after a hysterectomy and be cheerful? She needs time alone with her husband. He will look after her better than you can. The end of the week it is, assuming," she added at the doctor's expression, "that's she well enough."

She found Mark on her way back towards Frankie's room. "How is she?" he asked, peering through the window in the door.

"Not very good," his wife sighed. "She's feeling deeply guilty about it all, and it's not helping that when she's not blaming herself, she's blaming Horatio."

"Yeah, he noticed that." He hugged his wife. "I never thought I'd see Horatio look as beaten as he does now."

"He's just lost his child as well," Victoria said sadly. "Now all we have to do is remind Frankie of that, before she said or does something unforgivable. You know her temper."

Mark nodded sadly. "I should – she inherited it from me. It's hard to blame her for feeling angry though. Life is always so much easier when there is someone else to blame."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Again, apologies for the delay. Um, things will be slowly improving, but as the saying goes 'the darkest hour is just before dawn', so expect one or two hiccups along the way. As always, please review, but don't be too harsh on Frankie. She's having a tough time, and yes, I know Horatio is too.

Oh, and just in case someone with a burning urge to sue me is out there, I don't own Pretty Woman, Richard Gere or Julia Roberts.

* * *

Horatio visited Frankie every day, spending at least two hours a night with her. Each visit was the same. She would ask about work, he would ask after her parents. Then they would fall silent, neither knowing what to say. Occasionally, if something amusing had happened in the lab, like the time Ryan managed to drop fingerprint powder in the break room, and everything was red for days, Frankie would manage a small smile. Other than that, she sat stony-faced, and spent most of her time looking out of the window. Anywhere but at him, Horatio thought morosely.

He knew she was angry, knew she was angry at him, but he realised, with a sinking heart, that there was nothing he could do about it. To apologise would sound empty, but ignoring her anger wasn't working either. Horatio wasn't angry. He didn't have the energy to be angry. Grief had become so familiar to Horatio that he no longer blamed anyone but himself. Vaguely, he thought back to his mother's death and remembered the fury he had felt. Not just against her killer, unknown in the first few hideous weeks, but he had been furious with his mother too. He had been livid with rage that she had left him, and terrified that he would never cope. He looked at Frankie with deep sadness. He could understand her anger, but that didn't mean he could cope with it.

Finally the day came for her to be released from hospital. Despite all of Victoria's encouragement, Frankie didn't want to go home. She didn't want to be alone with Horatio, fearful of what her temper would make her say. For a few hours a day, she could bite back her anger and be coldly polite, but spending that much time with him would surely stretch her to breaking point. She found it difficult to look at him, ridiculous as that might seem, as all she saw was her failed dreams.

Doctor Russell, who had been keeping a very close eye on Frankie's condition, mentioned this to her mother. "Your daughter can hardly bear to be in the same room as her husband Mrs Nelson. Are you really sure it's wise to discharge her? We can easily keep her in for a few more nights."

Victoria, watching the painful silence between Horatio and Frankie through a window, shook her head. "They need to talk, but they won't until they have no choice except to talk to each other."

"But Mrs Nelson…."

"They need to talk," she repeated firmly.

* * *

The house felt cold and empty to Frankie as she walked slowly through the door. Horatio had offered her his arm, but she had shaken her head and walked in alone. Now she wished she hadn't been so stubborn. A week of lying down had left her ridiculously tired, and she swayed as she walked. She sank wearily on to the sofa and leaned her head back. The silence was becoming oppressive, but she could think of nothing to say. Her parents had, ignoring all of Frankie's pleas, left them alone, and she wished her mother was with her. 

"Can I get you anything?" Horatio hovered next to her. She shook her head silently and he sat down next to her. "Chess, I know this is hard, but we can get through this, right?"

"I don't know." Her bluntness was a surprise. Horatio stared at his hands, not wanting to see rejection on her face. This was the first time she had openly acknowledged there was a problem. Before, she had simply ignored him most of the time.

Another moment of silence, and he thought he might scream. "Unless you want me to stay, I think I'll head back to the lab. I've got a lot of paperwork to catch up on."

"No, you should go," she said. "I know how busy you are." When she heard the front door slam, she leant forward with her head in her hands. She knew she must be behaving appallingly for paperwork to seem an attractive option. Every time she decided to make more of an effort, she would end up saying something that would only make matters worse. What was she meant to do? She couldn't simply stop being angry.

A week in hospital with nothing to do had left too much time for introspection and she needed a distraction. Especially as the person she saw when she looked at herself was someone she hated. Someone who reacted selfishly at every opportunity, and who seemed to go out of her way to hurt the only man she'd ever truly loved. And yet, that selfish, angry part of her was demanding that no one understood what she was going through, and that she had every right to act the way she was.

Frankie gave herself a mental shake. She was going around in the same circles she had been all week. She needed to distract herself. A DVD seemed the best option, and her choice, _Pretty Woman_, was soon loading.

An hour and a half later, when Richard Gere was just pulling up in his white limo to tell Julia Roberts how much he loved her, Frankie was beginning to feel a little better. Right up to the last line of the film. Vivian's response to Edward's question about what happens after the prince rescues the fair maiden brought tears to her eyes.

"_She rescues him right back."_

That was what she was meant to be doing. Rescuing Horatio from all his demons, just as she had been rescued from her life – including the murderous intentions of some of the people she had helped convict. But what was she doing? Making matters worse. Blaming him for everything, when none of it was really his fault.

Annoyed at the world, and mainly at herself, she flung one of the cushions across the room. It bounced off the wall and hit a vase, knocking it to the floor, where it smashed into little pieces. Frankie promptly burst into floods of tears, and tried, ineffectually to clean up. She succeeded only in cutting herself on a sharp piece of glass. As the blood welled out of the small cut on her hand, she sank to the floor and sat there, her head in her hands, sobbing.

She was still there when Horatio returned from work, several hours later. He rushed to her side, and put his arm around her, trying to comfort her. For once, she didn't pull away, but let him hold her, grateful for the unquestioning support he gave her. One look at her hand, still bleeding slightly, and he helped her into the bathroom, washing the cut gently before wrapping a bandage around her hand.

"Sorry about the vase," she mumbled, looking at the floor.

He laughed softly and ran his hand through her hair. "It really doesn't matter."

"I've never deserved you," she said, fresh tears threatening to fall. Horatio gently tipped her head up, so that she met his gaze.

"You are far too good for me," he said firmly. "It's me that doesn't deserve you." For reasons he couldn't understand, that made her cry harder.


	11. Chapter 11

That evening went well, Horatio thought. Perhaps they had reached the turning point, and things would begin to improve. He was careful not to push her too far, and they didn't talk much, but the silence was companionable rather than uncomfortable this time. The problem came at night. Frankie spent the entire night tossing and turning, barely getting any rest at all. When she did drop off to sleep, she would jerk awake minutes later, gasping for breath. He asked her once if she was all right. Only once. She had told him to mind his own business in a tone that brooked no argument.

The morning sun was therefore very welcome. Horatio was already wide awake, had been for most of the night, and was glad to have an excuse to get up. Frankie laid there, eyes open, staring at nothing.

"Do you want any coffee?"

She shook her head, and kept staring at the wall. Horatio left her to it, trying not to feel as though they had taken one step forward and two backwards. After all, he reasoned, she was never much of a morning person anyway. Deciding against interrupting her to ask if she wanted any breakfast, Horatio drank his coffee and was debating whether to wait for her to get up or simply go into work.

Frankie solved that dilemma by emerging from the bedroom then, her hair spiked up in all directions and her eyes dull with tiredness. He tried a smile, but she only looked at him. "You didn't sleep that well," he began. "Perhaps you should take it easy today, maybe try and get some sleep later on?"

"I haven't slept in days," she said acidly. "Oh, sure, sometimes I manage a whole ten minutes of sleep, but then I wake up after yet another nightmare." She took in his dark grey suit and shirt. "Going to work?"

He nodded. "Unless you'd like company…"

Afterwards, Frankie tried to blame her exhaustion, knowing that was just an excuse. She should never have reacted the way she did to what was a genuine offer of company. Instead of being rational, however, she glared at Horatio. "Company? You think I want company? You think I want to spend my days with people who only offer me false sympathy?"

"It's not false."

"Of course it bloody is!" she snapped. "How can you really sympathise with me? How can you know how it feels to have lost your child? My own body killed my baby! And you want to know if I'd like company!"

Horatio stood up. "I was only asking Frankie. There's no need to bite my head off."

She snorted, rage getting the better of her. All the times she had bitten her tongue over the last week, all the anger she had swallowed, was coming out now. "Well, why not? Go on, run back to your stupid lab, and your stupid job! Hide behind the persona of the great Lieutenant Caine, who never puts a foot wrong! Go and pretend everything's just peachy and you just go on being the perfect cop – the man who never makes a mistake."

Horatio swallowed hard, his jaw tightening with the effort of not snapping back an answer. Frankie took a step towards him and he stepped back, trying to keep some neutral ground between them. Her tirade wasn't finished yet though.

"Well, you made a mistake here, didn't you?" Her voice was slowly rising to a shout. "You screwed up royally this time! The perfect little wife, and the perfect little family – hah, that's all gone now! You can't save this situation, Horatio, so just run away back to your lab."

"You're the one who doesn't want me here," he said, a trace of bitterness in his voice. The allegation that he was running away from her, abandoning her, hurt him deeply. She was the one who was always telling him to go to work.

"Got it in one! But then you always are right, aren't you?" She was still advancing towards him, and he was still backing away slowly. "Always so damn right about everything. Well, you'll be late from work if you stay here any longer! And we wouldn't want to leave Miami without its great protector, would we? God knows, they need you far more than I do! I mean, look what you did to me! This wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for you!" She shrieked the last at him and he visibly flinched, as though she had struck him.

"I think I should give you some space," he muttered, turning towards the door.

"Hah! Running away again!" Frankie folded her arms across her chest. "Coward! Can't bear to face me, can you? Can't bear to know that this is all your fault. My baby is dead! Dead! And it's all your fault!" She was screaming at him. "Just get out of my sight!"

He opened the door, turned back to her and looked as though he was about to say something before changing his mind. He shook his head sadly, and shut the door behind him.

Frankie glared at the door, as though she was still glaring at Horatio. Then, slowly, her anger melted away and she sank into a chair, exhausted by all the emotion. She looked around the house, her eyes wide with horror.

"Oh god, what have I done?"


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: A quick thank you to all my reviewers, who are ever patient and full of praise. Particular thanks to Bookwrangler, Lerrinus and TenFour, whose comments have been very touching. I'm pleased I'm managing to capture the emotions properly here, and do the characters justice. Keep the comments coming.

* * *

Horatio sat outside the lab, unable for the moment to get out of the Hummer and face everyone else. Frankie's words echoed in his mind. _My baby is dead because of you._ He had known that she was angry at him, but to hear her actually say that cut him deeply. He stared at himself in the rear view mirror. The face of a killer? Yes, he had known that for too long. Far longer than he cared to admit. The face of a man who killed his own child? Well, that was what his wife seemed to believe. 

A sob rose in his throat and he choked it back, tearing himself away from the accusing blue gaze in the mirror. He made his way quickly through the lab, not wanting to stop and talk with anyone in case anything showed on his face. He was meant to be in charge after all. That meant he was the responsible, reliable one who couldn't let personal feelings affect his work. Eyes on the floor, unwilling to catch anyone's eye, he walked towards his office.

Alexx watched him in concern. She knew the last week had been horrendously hard on Horatio, but something was different today. He had been quiet all week, understandably so, but today he seemed…she wasn't entirely sure, only that his shoulders were tight with tension and his head was down, eyes downcast. Something was wrong. She winced internally: something _else_ was wrong. And if Frankie had let him come into work, that probably meant that she was the problem rather than the solution.

Before she could do anything about it, however, her beeper went off. DB on Collins. Just what she needed. By the time she got out to the scene, Horatio was already there, along with Frank, Calleigh and Ryan. Ducking under the crime scene tape, she watched Horatio carefully. With his sunglasses on, it was impossible to guess what he was thinking, but he looked tired, almost beyond endurance.

Sighing, she turned her attention to the body on the sidewalk. It was a young man, stabbed several times in the chest and stomach area.

"Alexx, what have you got?"

"Multiple sharp force trauma wounds, looks like one bisected the hepatic vein," she said, gently examining the corpse.

"Time of death?"

"Judging by lack of rigor, and his body temp, I'd say less than two hours. I'll be more accurate after I get him to post." She looked up. "How are you, sugar?"

Horatio raised an eyebrow. "Fine. Thank you Alexx." He walked off before she could argue the point with him. Once the body was loaded into the coroner's van, she turned back to talk to Calleigh.

"Have you spoken to Frankie lately?"

"No." The ballistics expert shook her head sadly. "She doesn't answer her messages anymore. Why? Is there something wrong?"

"Not sure yet," Alexx said grimly, "but I intend to find out."

* * *

Alexx was kept busy throughout the day, but tried to keep an eye on Horatio. He worked himself harder than ever, never seeming to take a break, or have five minutes peace. It took until the end of the day, when she was just about to end her shift, for her to get a chance to talk to him. Horatio was in the trace lab, waiting on some results. Luckily Ryan was on his way to the trace lab, so Alexx dragged the young CSI in with her. 

"I need to talk to you Horatio."

He looked around for a second, before turning his attention back to the machine. "Can it wait Alexx? I'm just waiting for these results."

"That's why Ryan's here," she said firmly. "He can finish up here for you, while you and I go to your office and have a little chat. Isn't that right, Ryan?"

Caught off guard, Ryan had little option but to agree. Horatio could not help but smile at his ME's tactics, the first time he had smiled that day, Alexx thought with concern. Once they were in his office, Horatio perched on the edge of his desk, while she sat down.

"What do you want to talk about Alexx?" Perhaps, he thought desperately, if he pretended everything was fine, then she would just go.

"You, sugar. I want to talk about you, and how you are."

He shifted uncomfortably. "I told you. I'm fine."

Alexx shook her head. "No you're not. And I know what you're going through must be hell, but I think something's happened, last night or this morning, and I'm worried." When he said nothing, only studied his hands, she sighed. "Baby, I'm a friend, and you can trust me. Whatever you tell me is in confidence, and no one will hear anything from me. Not even Frankie." He shot her a pained glance, and she knew she had been right. Something had happened, and she'd bet Frankie had said something to cause this.

"I know I can trust you," he said quietly. "I just, I, Alexx, I just don't know what to do." She leaned forward, pleased to be getting somewhere at last, when he looked around him and seemed to withdraw back into himself again. She frowned and followed his gaze, wondering what had changed his mind – and cursed the architect who decided that glass walls was the best thing for a crime lab. Of course he wasn't about to start having this conversation here, where anyone could see.

She stood up. "Come on, you're coming home with me. For a start you don't look as if you've eaten in a week, and I'm cooking my famous Thai curry tonight. No, I will not take no for an answer." She touched his shoulder gently. "Horatio, I won't push you, but it helps to talk. And you do need to eat," she finished with a smile.

Horatio smiled tiredly. "Sometimes I think you'd be lost if you didn't have all of us to mother."

* * *

Alexx was at a loss as to how to help. Horatio had, after hours of coaxing, told her what Frankie had said that morning, and she had been fuming with rage. How could she have been so cruel? When she had said as much, Horatio had shaken his head and defended her. That had only made Alexx madder. Frankie had behaved appallingly, said something terrible things, and Horatio was trying to excuse her. 

Horatio had given in at last, and agreed to stay with her that night, after admitting he didn't think he could face Frankie. Alexx had been relieved about that, as she had worried where he would go. Or what he would do. For a moment, she had been worried about him doing something stupid. He just looked so lost.


	13. Chapter 13

Frankie lost track of how long she sat there, staring blankly around her. All she could think of was the argument. The insults and curses she had thrown at Horatio. The accusation that all of this pain was his fault. What haunted her most, however, was the betrayal she had seen flash across his eyes before he left. All those times she had lost her temper with him, or with anyone else for that matter – they all paled in comparison to this. This time, she had gone too far.

The ringing of the telephone woke her from her reverie. It was her mother, checking up on how the first night at home had gone. Frankie felt a few tears slide down her cheeks as Victoria said she hoped they were sorting things out.

"Mom, I think I've done something stupid," she whispered. "I think I just ruined my marriage."

"Don't be silly darling. Horatio loves you," Victoria said, a trace of concern in her voice.

"Mom, I have to go. I need to make this right." She hung up and dialled Horatio's cell. It went straight to voicemail. She hung up, unsure what she could say to apologise. A simple 'sorry' would never be enough. Gritting her teeth, she tried again. Again it went straight to voicemail. This time she left a message. "Horatio, when you get this message, please call me. I am so sorry. I'm so sorry, I…please, please call me."

Hardly enough, but it was a start, she thought bleakly. Slowly, still achingly stiff and sore after a week in hospital, she managed to get dressed. Horatio still hadn't called her back. Be realistic, she rebuked herself. There was no way she would have called him, if he had said anything like the awful things she had.

Mark leaned heavily on the doorbell, concerned that no one was answering, and was relieved when Frankie eventually opened the door. She looked like she was close to tears and he hugged her gently. Victoria gave her daughter a quick kiss on the cheek as they walked inside. "So, how have you managed to ruin your marriage?" Mark asked, smiling slightly. "Because it would have to be something spectacular to make Horatio walk away from you."

"Oh, it was spectacular all right," Frankie said bitterly. Her cheeks burning with embarrassment, she explained as briefly as possible what had happened. Her parents reacted as she would have expected. Victoria buried her head in her hands, while Mark looked uncomfortable.

"Have you spoken to him since?" Mark had his arm around his youngest daughter.

"I've left a voicemail message." Frankie stood up, wincing as the sudden movement pulled at her stitches. "But, as they say, if Mohammed won't go to the mountain, the mountain must go to Mohammed. Can you give me a lift to the lab please?"

"I don't think that's a very good idea love," Victoria said gently.

"No, I need to talk to him. I need to apologise."

"Frankie, I think it might be best if you give him some time," Victoria was still talking in that very gentle tone. "He'll need some time to get over what happened."

"Time to get over what a bitch his wife is, you mean?" Frankie snapped. "Oh god, Mom, what am I meant to say? Sorry is nowhere near enough."

Victoria gave her daughter a hug. "I think you both need time to think. Frankie, I know this has been tough on you, but I think you've forgotten that it's been hard for Horatio too."

"I know." Frankie's voice was very subdued. "I just need to see him."

"Perhaps it's about time you stop thinking about what you need, and start thinking about what your husband needs," Victoria said sternly. She gestured to her husband. "Come on Mark, I think she needs some time alone."

Mark followed her, his eyes darting back to Frankie's forlorn figure. "Weren't you a little hard on her back then? We should stay with her, she might need us."

"Men and their daughters," Victoria smiled sadly. "You'd let Frankie get away with murder, just because you love her. She needed to be told a few home truths. I just hope I didn't leave it too late."

* * *

When Horatio didn't come home that night, Frankie was worried, but unsurprised. Lying awake, she went over and over her behaviour, wondering why she had turned into such a selfish, inconsiderate person. Sure, she thought cynically, she had lost the baby, but other women coped with that, without screaming at their husbands. She shuddered as her words came back to her. _My baby is dead! And it's all your fault! _How could she have said all of those things? 

She had left another message on Horatio's voicemail, once again apologising briefly and asking him to call her. Still no word from him, though. Or from Alexx, which was more surprising. She had called the ME in the afternoon, and had to leave a message. Frankie groaned and rubbed her face. She had been an appalling friend recently as well, ignoring calls and not responding to any messages of sympathy. She only hoped that Horatio was all right, that he was staying with a friend like Alexx or Frank, who might get him to talk, that he would come home to her eventually.

The rays of the morning sun woke her up from a brief doze, and she realised with a sinking heart that, despite what her parents said, he wasn't going to come home unless she went to him first. After everything he had been through in his life, it was understandable that he would react like this. She had spent so long working on breaking down the walls between them, on getting him to really open up to her. Now she would have to start all over again.

She got dressed slowly, wishing her stiffness would fade as swiftly as her anger had. Someone banged loudly on the front door, and she frowned. Who on earth would this be? This early in the morning, it was unlikely to be a casual visitor. She opened the door cautiously, wary of surprises, but smiled when she saw Alexx standing there.

Alexx's slap, therefore, caught her by surprise. The open-handed blow across her face made her stagger back a few steps, and she touched her cheek, wondering if this was all a bad dream. Alexx advanced, waving a threatening finger at her.

"How could you? How could you treat him like that? How could you say what you did? Do you even realise how much you hurt him?" Alexx glared at her, daring her to justify her actions.

Frankie closed her eyes, tears threatening to fall again. "Alexx, I behaved horrendously. There's no excuse for what I said."

"How could you even think of saying that to him? You selfish, vicious little….oh." Alexx trailed off as she realised Frankie wasn't about to make excuses for herself. "You know you behaved terribly?"

Frankie nodded miserably. "I've been nothing but a self-centred, evil bitch since this all happened. I can't think what came over me. Is, is he OK?"

Alexx, she noted, always simmered down as quickly as she had blown up. Now the ME was staring at her with unconcealed sympathy and friendship. "Honey, you hurt him very badly. I don't think he's going to be OK for a while yet." Alexx sat down on the sofa, and pulled Frankie down beside her. "Do you know you that since you lost the baby you only call it 'your' baby. Before, you always said 'our' baby. It's as though you've cut Horatio out totally from all of this. As though you think he has no right to be upset."

"He stayed at yours?"

"He did last night, yes. But he left early this morning, without saying where he was going. I've checked in at the lab, and he's not there." Alexx touched the other woman's hand gently. "He needed to talk to someone."

"I'm glad he had you to talk to." It should have been me, she thought dispiritedly. It should have been me he talked to. But she had pushed him away too many times. Now she had to get him back.

Alexx talked, and Frankie listened, and by the time the ME left, Frankie thought she might know where Horatio had gone.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Just the one chapter for now, but more is on the way. I'm not done with Horatio and Frankie just yet, so keep those reviews coming.

* * *

She had intended to drive, but one look at her medication forbade that. The pain medication and anti-inflammatories stated categorically that she was not to operate heavy machinery. Frankie, with a longing glance at her sporty roadster, decided that probably included cars. Still, she needed to get to Horatio, and she needed to do this alone. Luckily, Greyhound ran a daily service from Miami down to Key West and Frankie, with relief, realised she wouldn't have to ask her parents to take her after all. Optimistically, she only bought a one-way ticket. After all, she thought, settling into her seat, she had no intention of returning to Miami without her husband. 

"Is this seat free, my dear?" Frankie turned to stare at the old lady who was talking to her. She looked pointedly around her, noting that the coach was half empty. The old lady, wearing a cardigan with a badge that read 'World's Best Grandma', smiled. "I hate sitting by myself on journeys, don't you?"

"I won't be very good company," she warned.

"Oh, why's that? After all, we're off to the Keys! And it's very beautiful down there."

"I'm not going on holiday. I'm going to try to get my husband back," she said shortly.

"Run off with someone younger, has he?" Her new friend sat down next to her and nodded sympathetically. "Men are all the same."

"Horatio is nothing like that!" Frankie felt her temper stir and quickly squashed the impulse. Losing her temper was what had got her into this mess in the first place. She took a deep breath and said more calmly, "Horatio would never cheat on me. This is all my fault. He isn't to blame in the slightest."

"Whatever you say, my dear." Frankie gritted her teeth at the woman's disbelieving tone and turned to stare out of the window. How could she doubt Horatio, without even meeting him? How could anyone ever doubt Horatio's integrity? She winced. She had, all too often in the last week or so.

She watched the landscape slide past, as Miami gave way to the Keys, and a more relaxed way of life. They had chosen eventually, after lengthy debates, to go to Paris on honeymoon to get away from work and normal life entirely, but Horatio's first choice had initially been Key West. He had bought land there years ago, when property was still cheap, and had spent some time renovating a small property on Atlantic Avenue. Frankie had, for various reasons, not yet managed to get down to the Keys to see it, despite Horatio's enthusiasm to show her the place. This would be where he would go for solace. She was certain of it.

There was a fresh breeze off the ocean when she stepped off the coach, and the air was clearer than in the city. She hailed a taxi and gave him the address, trying to plan what she could say to make this better. An apology was not enough. She wasn't sure anything would ever be enough. The taxi pulled up outside a small, Plantation style house, with a covered porch and a small balcony overlooking the road. The house was painted white, almost glowing in the early afternoon sun. She loved it instantly. She tapped hesitantly on the door, but there was no answer. She had been so sure that he would be here. A sound caught her attention, and she looked around. The owner of the next house waved to her, a tall, burly man loading a Ford pick-up.

"Looking for Horatio?"

"Um, yes."

"He'll be around the back. He always is."

"Oh. Thank you." Frankie made her way slowly around the side of the property, and stood stunned for a second as she saw the view. Horatio had always said it was impressive, but this took her breath away. The back of the house led down to a small, private beach, open only to the owners of about three properties. Beyond that, there was the ocean, stretching endlessly into the horizon. She could see why Horatio loved it here. The sound of the ocean always seemed to relax him, especially at the end of a long, hard day, and here there was nothing but the sound of the waves lapping at the shore. And the occasional screech of a sea bird.

Horatio was sitting at a table, apparently reading a newspaper. She watched him in silence for a while, wondering how to approach this. Summoning up every ounce of courage within her, she walked over to him. He didn't look around or appear to notice her presence until she touched him on the shoulder.

"Horatio? Can I sit down?" Those bloody sunglasses again, she thought angrily. He always used them to hide behind.

"What are you doing here?" The tone of his voice sent her heart plummeting. There was no anger, no heat. He sounded cold, dead inside. As though he no longer had the energy to care about anything.

She reached over to touch his hand, but he jerked back from her. "I wanted to apologise for what I said the other day. It was unforgivable."

"Yes. It was."

"I've treated you appallingly. I should never have said what I did. I, Horatio, please, I am so sorry." Frankie felt a tear trickle down her tear and wiped it away quickly. This wasn't about what she was feeling. This was about Horatio.

He shook his head slowly, and stood up. "I think you should just go."

"No. Not without you."

"Frankie…" he trailed off uncertainly. "I don't know what to say to you anymore."

"You don't have to say anything," she said softly. She walked over to him and reached for his hand. She held on tight, not letting him pull away. "You don't have to say anything to me, but I want you to know that I will never,_ never_, treat you that way again, and that I will always be here if you need to talk." She paused for a moment. "I love you Horatio Caine. I always have and I always will. Not that I've been acting like it. You deserve far better than me, far better than a selfish, moody, cruel woman who has never put you first." She knew suddenly that if he said he wanted a divorce, she would agree. Anything, as long as he would be happy again. "One more chance, Horatio. Please. I promise, things will be different."

He gave a harsh bark of laughter and turned to look at her. "That's what my father always told my mom. 'Things will be different'. They never were."

She turned pale. He thought of her like that? Perhaps she really was wasting her time. No. She shook her head. She refused to give in that easily. "I am not your father! I love you! I love you so much it is killing me to think I hurt you!" She flinched as a sudden pain flared in her stomach, but ignored it. This was far more important. "I will prove to you that I can change! I –" Her words were cut off as a wave of nausea washed over her, accompanied by a feeling of light-headedness. She sank to her knees, her vision clouding over.

"Frankie, I need you to stay with me," Horatio's calm voice cut through her panic. "Keep your head down and breathe normally." Slowly, her vision cleared and the feelings of light-headedness passed.

She looked up at Horatio, her eyes wide. "Sorry," she mumbled. Tears filled her eyes. "I suppose you'd still like me to go." She wobbled to her feet and swayed slightly, trying to regain her balance.

Horatio sighed heavily. "You'd better come inside and sit down."


	15. Chapter 15

Horatio fetched Frankie a glass of water while she sat down in the cool of the house, trying to stop shaking. He frowned at her for a second, wondering what he should do. Part of him longed to forgive her, to forget anything had happened and to go back to the way they were before. But her words echoed again in his mind and hurt him again with their memory. For the first time in a long time, he had no idea of what he should do. He still loved her, of that there was no doubt, but could he trust her again?

Sighing, he sat down opposite her and handed her the water. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better." She smiled wanly. "Sorry about back there, I don't know what came over me."

"Have you taken your meds?" She checked her watch and shook her head, groaning as she fished the bottle out of her bag and swallowed a couple of tablets. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"I want to talk to you." Now they were both inside, he had taken off his sunglasses, but she could read nothing in his gaze. The barriers she had spent so long breaking down were firmly back in place. A jolt of despair shook her, but she ignored it. She was not leaving without her husband. "Horatio, please, we need to talk about this."

"Do we?"

"Yes." She stared at him, trying to read something, anything, in his eyes. "I need you to know that I'm sorry. I should never have said those awful things. I don't know why I did."

"Don't you?"

Exasperated, she leaned back. "If all you're going to do is play silly word games with me, I guess I really am wasting my time." He sighed and dropped his head, studying the floor instead of her. "Horatio, please, just talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?" he asked tiredly. "That you hurt me? You know that. That I'm sorry for everything? That I blame myself too for what happened? All right, fine, I blame myself as well. I should have taken better care of you."

"I don't blame you," she said softly, hating herself for making him think that. "I do not blame you."

"Really." It wasn't a question.

"I don't blame you," she insisted.

"You did." There was no accusation in his tone, only unbearable tiredness.

"Yes," she admitted, shame making her flush. "Yes, and it was wrong of me to do that. It was no one's fault, and especially not yours."

"What changed your mind?" She thought she saw a flash of hope in his eyes, but it was quickly suppressed.

Frankie gave a rueful laugh, and shrugged. "I, um, had the sense knocked into me. Alexx and my parents all pointed out that I was a selfish, horrible person and that I deserved to lose you. Alexx made her point prettily clearly," she added, rubbing the side of her face as she remembered the slap.

Horatio, however tired he may be, was always quicker than she imagined. "She hit you?"

A little cheered by the indignation in his tone, Frankie smiled. "Nothing I didn't deserve."

Horatio stood up, anger plain on his face. "I can't believe Alexx hit you. I will have to speak to her about this. She can't hit my wife."

Hope made Frankie smile broadly. "So you're not getting rid of me just yet?"

"Hmm?"

"You still think of me as your wife." She moved to stand beside him, taking hold of his hand again. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you wanted a divorce after all the things I said."

"Frankie, I …" He paused and turned away from her, taking a deep breath. "I don't want to lose you. I'm just not sure, I'm not sure about anything anymore."

"Do you still love me?"

He smiled sadly. "Things would be a lot simpler if I could say no to that question."

Relief made Frankie's legs feel weak, and she sagged back down on to a settee. Still holding his hand, she tugged him down beside her. "I love you too." He was still refusing to meet her eyes, and she realised how painful it must have been for him, when she wouldn't look at him. All that time, she marvelled, all that time, and he never said anything. "You should be nominated for sainthood, Horatio. I have no idea how you've been so patient with me."

He gave a mirthless chuckle and shook his head. "Hardly."

"Will you come home with me?"

"I can't."

"Why not?" Frankie heard the impatience in her tone and tried to moderate it. Temper would get her nowhere. "You said you still love me. Let's go home, and work this out."

"I love you Frankie, but I don't know if I can trust you." He looked at her then, and she almost wished he hadn't. His eyes were filled with confusion and indecision. And pain. She went to hold him, to put her arms around him to try to take that pain away, and he leant back, out of her reach. "If I can't trust you, how can we be together?"

"What will it take to make you trust me again?"

"I don't know." He shook his head again and went to stand up. Frankie snatched at his hand, and pulled him towards her, with a strength borne of desperation. Startled by the unexpected movement, he was pulled off balance and she wrapped her arms around him before he had a chance to protest.

"I am not going to lose you, Horatio Caine," she swore to him. "We will get through this, and I will prove to you that you can trust me." She leaned back and smiled at him. "You will trust me with your heart again, and this time I will not let you down."

He only looked at her sadly for a long moment. "I'll get us something to eat." Frankie watched him leave the room, her eyes lingering on his lean frame. It wasn't much, but at least it was a start.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: This would have been up a little sooner, but ffnet took exception to ch.17, and wouldn't let me load it. Not quite sure what was going on there, but I wanted to post these two together so I had to wait.

* * *

Frankie let him think in peace for the afternoon, and stayed in the house, out of the sun. Horatio paced around the small garden, looking for all the world like a caged tiger. She watched him in concern, wishing she could know what he was thinking. He loved her still, despite everything she had said and done, yet would that be enough? She took the opportunity to call her parents and let them know where she was, otherwise they would only worry. She also called Alexx, just to let her know that Horatio was alive and well, and that they were trying to work things out. Then she sat back, and waited. 

He could feel her gaze on him, as he paced around. Horatio knew she was watching him, and was grateful for a moment that she left him to think alone. But then, he considered, she had always been good at knowing when he needed time by himself. Except recently. Lately, it was as if they didn't know each other at all. He sighed and stopped moving, leaning on the low fence that separated the garden from the beach. Had he been patient enough with her? Had he given her enough space? Perhaps not, and maybe that was why she had said the things she did. But then Alexx seemed to be under the impression that Frankie was the unreasonable one, that it was all her fault.

That sent his thoughts down another path. Alexx had hit Frankie. Regardless of why Alexx had hit her, anger still bubbled up inside him when he thought of anyone hurting Frankie. She was _his_ wife. His, and his alone. She belonged with him. The strength of that emotion shocked him for a second, and he paused. Was he really willing to walk away from Frankie, whatever she had done?

By the time the sun was setting, Frankie thought Horatio looked as if he had come to some sort of decision. Deciding to interrupt his solitude, she took him out a glass of icy water. "You haven't had anything to drink all afternoon," she explained.

"Thank you." Sunglasses still shadowed his eyes, and she wondered what decision he had reached. He took a long drink of the cool liquid and sighed. "What are we going to do?"

She smiled and stepped a little closer to him, hope leaping inside her. He had said 'we'. That had to be a good sign. "I'm not sure. I know I've got a lot to apologise for, and I know it probably won't be simple, but I still love you. I don't want to give up on us. Do you?"

He shook his head silently and again she rejoiced internally. Horatio slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her a little closer, so she was standing with her head leaning on his shoulder. "I don't want to give up on us either. It's difficult though, isn't it?"

"I know. I know I hurt you. You can't imagine how sorry I am for that. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you," she promised.

He looked down with a hint of his old, mischievous smile. "Anything?"

She laughed and buried her head in his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne. "Anything."

"Well, that does open up some possibilities…" he smiled, and she laughed again. Then, serious once more, he said, "I don't want to lose you." She hugged him a little tighter and he reciprocated. "Chess…" She smiled: he hadn't called her that in a while. "Chess, I think we need to take this slowly."

"Start from the beginning you mean? It could be fun, dating my husband."

He gave a little chuckle. "Perhaps not quite that slowly. I just mean…I'm not really sure, only that I need some time, you know?"

"I know. Time to learn to trust me again."

"I think we both need time," he said gently. "This has been hard for both of us." Her breath caught in her throat and she felt tears fill her eyes. She had never, ever deserved to be loved by anyone as truly good as Horatio. Still so understanding, after everything.

"Harder for you," she said, and shook her head when he went to contradict her. "No, Horatio, this has been harder for you. I've had my parents and you, and my friends if I had chosen to ask for help. Who have you had? Who has been there for you? All I've done is think of myself, when I should have been there, comforting you."

"Chess, you had a major operation, and…" he trailed off, an edge of raw pain in his voice.

"And I lost our baby," she replied, emphasising the word 'our'. "You lost the baby as well, not just me. I forgot that." He gave a shaky sigh and she tightened her hold around his waist. "I never let you grieve. Forget the terrible things I said to you, not letting you grieve properly is my true crime."

"It doesn't matter anymore." Horatio pulled away from her and walked back towards the house.

"Of course it bloody matters!" Despite her intention to keep her temper, the defeat in his voice sparked something inside her. She would not let him shut away this pain. He had to grieve – they had to grieve. Together. She stormed after him, and slammed the door shut behind her. "Of course it matters! Horatio, I swear, sometimes you are the most irritating, annoying man…" Her voice died away suddenly and she gave a rueful laugh. "I'm not doing very well at keeping my temper, am I?"

He shook his head, a fond smile on his lips. "You never were." He paused and said softly, "I've always loved that fire in you."

She flushed. "I meant what I said this time. You need to grieve." She moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I am so sorry. For everything."

"I know." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and sighed, then checked his watch. "Time for more medication?"

Frankie grimaced and nodded. "I hate them, they make me so sleepy."

"There's a perfectly good bedroom here. Get some rest, Chess. We can talk more tomorrow."

Frankie touched his cheek gently, stroking along his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. "You need some rest too. I'll bet you haven't slept at all this last week."

"Not much."

"Come up with me?" He hesitated, went to shake his head, and then nodded. She smiled cheekily, in an attempt to ease the pain on his face. "I promise to behave."

It worked, and he gave a quiet laugh. "You are never well behaved."

"Well, I may be too sleepy to be anything else," she warned. She took his hand and he smiled slightly, before leading her towards the bedroom.


	17. Chapter 17

Frankie was right about one thing: the pain medication did make her sleepy, and she dropped straight into a deep sleep. Nightmares troubled her again though, and she woke, unable to breathe. Fear and sorrow pounded in her brain and she lay still, every muscle tense to the point of pain. A gentle hand stroked her back and she gradually relaxed into the reassuring touch. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal and she drew a deep, shuddering breath. The gentle hand on her back continued its comforting movements and she sighed, before rolling over. Horatio's concerned blue eyes sought hers.

"Chess? Are you all right?"

About to deny that anything was the matter, Frankie paused. It was her reluctance to share her grief with him that had got them into this mess in the first place. Aware that one of them, at the very least, had to make an effort, she shook her head. "I keep having these nightmares. Every night, it's the same thing. I'm at home, our home, and everything is fine. We've had the baby, and things are wonderful. Then I hear this crash, like someone's dropped something and I run into the nursery." She paused and closed her eyes, the image burned into her mind.

Horatio, leaning over her, cupped her face in one hand, his heart in his eyes. "What happened next?"

Frankie felt the tears begin to leak down her cheeks, but ignored them. "The baby has gone, and there's only blood there. So much blood, everything in the room is red. I'm covered in it, and I can't see the baby. I keep looking, but I can't find anything. I run back into the kitchen, but everything I touch gets covered in blood, until the whole house is dripping with it. Blood everywhere," she whispered, horror etched into her eyes. "I know what the dream means – it means it was all my fault. It means I killed our baby." Unable to hold back any longer, the guilt and grief that she had carried for what felt like forever spilled over, and she burst into tears.

Instantly, she was pulled into a warm, strong embrace, Horatio's arms around her. She lay against his chest, tears falling uncontrollably. "You did nothing wrong," he said firmly.

His words did nothing to stem the tide of tears. "I did! I did! I should have done something differently! This is my fault, and I was so desperate for someone else to blame, and I just blamed you, and it wasn't your fault, it was mine!" She was weeping brokenly, her words barely audible. Horatio held her tighter, wishing there was something he could do, something he could say to make it better.

"It wasn't my fault," he acknowledged softly, tears filling his own eyes, "but it was not your fault either. Chess, it wasn't your fault."

She raised her tear-stained face. "It must have been my fault. I must have done something wrong."

"You did nothing wrong," he said resolutely, his voice urgent. "Chess, you have to believe me. You can't blame yourself for this. This is the sort of thing that will drive you mad. Please, sweetheart, you have to believe me!"

The tone of his voice got through to her and she stared at him, bemused. Then she nodded slowly in comprehension. "You always blame yourself for everything, don't you?" He looked away from her, but acknowledged her point with a curt nod of his head. "Oh Horatio, why don't you ever talk to me?" She clung to him, holding him firmly against her. "This wasn't your fault," she whispered in his ear. "None of this was your fault." He shivered and she ran one hand through the soft red hair, moving so that she met his gaze. "Horatio, this was not your fault." She spoke precisely, each word clear and loud in the room.

"I should have looked after you," he said hoarsely, "I should have looked after our baby." She closed her eyes and tugged him back into her arms, wishing she could take back what she had said. She should have known him well enough to guess that he would blame himself, and the accusations she had flung at him had only made things worse.

His body was rigid with tension in her arms, but she held him close to her. "I love you," she said softly. That seemed to trigger something inside him, and he let out a ragged breath, before letting out a single, choking sob. She could feel him trying to regain some control over himself, and lightly rubbed her hands up and down his back, a calming, soothing gesture. "It's OK, Horatio. It's OK." Still murmuring comforting words of endearment and love, she continued to rub his back until she felt his self-control break. Quite suddenly, he was crying, hoarse aching sobs ripping themselves from him, tears pouring on to her shoulder.

She let him cry in silence, but kept up her soothing motions up and down his back. How could she have been so cruel? So thoughtless? All the people he had lost, all the grief he had suffered through, and what did she do? She blamed him. Frankie blinked back tears of her own, and pressed a light kiss to Horatio's shoulder. He deserved far better than her, always had done. The one time in his life when he had someone to share the grief with, she had turned away from him. Frankie hugged him fiercely, guilt welling up inside her.

"I am so sorry," she murmured.

Horatio had got himself back under control, only a few stray tears escaping now, and shook his head. "I'm the one who should be sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "You have done nothing wrong. Nothing at all," she repeated, seeing him about to disagree with her. "And don't you dare apologise for just now, OK? You are _allowed_ to grieve. God alone knows," she said fervently, "how you held back this long, because I certainly don't." She gently wiped away a tear and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I do love you Horatio Caine."

Holding her close, Horatio inhaled the scent of her hair, trying to get his breathing back under some semblance of control. He hadn't broken down like this in too long, not when Speed died, not when he thought Madison might die. Not even when he thought he had lost Frankie. He shivered, and she tightened her hold on him. He allowed himself a slight smile as the heat in her voice, telling him not to be ridiculous, came back to him. That fire, that passion, was one of the things that had attracted him to Frankie in the first place, despite all the troubles her temper tantrums invariably caused. Hopelessly wishing things were different, he bit his lip, holding in a fresh wave of tears. Why couldn't he have seen his son or daughter lose their temper? Why him, he wondered, why did these things always happen to him?

But then he looked down at Frankie, and met the beautiful dove grey eyes of his wife, and wondered if things were really so bad. "I love you," she repeated, giving him a small smile.

"I love you too, Francesca Caine," he said softly, and, for the first time in the longest ten days of his life, he thought he saw light at the end of the tunnel.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: First, let me just apologise profusely to anyone who had been waiting for the next installment of this story. I confess, at the end of the last chapter, I hit a bit of a creative brick wall, and it has taken me this long to figure out what I hope will be a satisfactory end to this story. I could blame work (which has been manic lately), but the real culprit was me - I just didn't know how to continue. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this slightly delayed story, and there's only one chapter left after these two, so it shouldn't take me too long to get that one down on paper/screen. Please let me know what you think, all comments appreciated.

* * *

The shrill sound of Horatio's cell dragged them both from an uneasy sleep. Nightmares had dogged Frankie's dreams, but each time she woke up, Horatio would be there, soothing her with gentle words and his touch. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, it occurred to her that he had _always_ been awake when she woke up – so had he got any sleep? She could hear Tripp's voice, although she couldn't make out exactly what he said, only that it made Horatio's shoulders droop. He hung up and sighed, before digging out a navy blue suit from the closet. 

"What's happened?"

"Triple homicide," he replied, tiredness making his tone curter than normal. "Three college girls shot in their sorority house. Tripp said they need everyone available on this one."

"Horatio," she said, coming to stand close behind him. "You need some time off. We still need to talk."

He turned to her, pleading in his eyes, although his voice held little emotion. "I can't do this now, Chess. I just can't. I have work to do."

"Horatio…"

"Please Chess, please, just leave it for today. Can you do that for me?"

Frankie bit her lip, unsure whether she should insist on they talk this through now, before the moment passed. Then she nodded, and made her way towards the kitchen. "I'll put the coffee on. We'll need some breakfast before we go to work."

"We?"

"I'm coming with you." She glanced back just in time to see Horatio smile briefly, and then went to make some strong coffee.

* * *

The drive back to Miami was completed mainly in silence, to Frankie's annoyance. The trip could have been the perfect opportunity to talk more about what had happened, but Horatio had only shaken his head and changed the subject. As they pulled up outside the crime scene, Frankie suddenly understood why he had always deflected the conversation, as it was almost possible to see the mask of professionalism slide into place, covering the exhaustion and grief that was so apparent to her. 

He approached Tripp with his usual catlike grace, and she thought proudly that no one would ever know the heartbreak of the last week or so. Staying on the outside of the crime scene tape, Frankie waited patiently for him to re-emerge. Before that happened, the coroner's van pulled up and Alexx made her way over.

"Hey honey," she greeted the blonde woman affectionately. "So, how is everything?"

"It would be better if we hadn't had to come back to Miami today," Frankie said regretfully, "but I guess you can't plan around murder." Unlike her own temper, Alexx's rare outbursts were always short-lived. Alexx, at least, never held a grudge. Frankie looked back at the sorority house. "I think we're making progress."

"That's good," Alexx said, touching Frankie's shoulder gently. "And I'm sorry for what happened the other day. It's just…" She trailed off, unsure how to apologise properly for slapping her.

"It's just I needed a good slap," Frankie replied wryly. "Brought me back to my senses. Thank you."

"And how are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Not too bad, all things considered. Tired mainly."

"Well, you take care of yourself. I have to get back to work." Alexx ducked under the tape and was soon lost to sight. Getting bored with waiting, Frankie slipped back into the car and had soon dozed off, her sleep fitful and filled with images of blood-covered cots and teddy-bears.

Horatio emerged from the crime scene, left wondering once again how people could be so callous. Three cheerleaders shot dead in their own home. No obvious motives, just three dead young girls, not one of them over twenty years old. Leaving the body haulers to remove the remains, he moved over to speak with Alexx and Tripp.

"Time of death Alexx?"

She gave him a sympathetic smile before she answered. "Tori and Kelly died around six hours ago, but Justine was a lot more recent. Within the last three hours, I'd guess." She shook her head. "Just a bunch of kids, enjoying being young and pretty." Horatio nodded absently, searching for Frankie in the crowd of police and press. Alexx noticed his distraction. "She's in your car, having a rest. Why don't you take her home and get some rest yourself, sugar?"

"Because we have three dead girls Alexx. And I still have a job to do."

Tripp shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry for calling you in like this H."

"No problem Frank." He glanced at his watch. "I'll drive Frankie home and meet you back at the lab, OK?" He was gone before they could say anything, leaving Alexx and Frank to exchange worried looks.

"Are they all right?" Tripp asked, frowning at the retreating back of his friend.

"I hope so," Alexx said, shaking her head slowly. "I really hope so."


	19. Chapter 19

Once Horatio had dropped her off at home, with a light kiss on the cheek when he left, Frankie called her parents, knowing she was simply too tired to do anything that day, and certainly too tired to carry out the preparations necessary for phase two of her plan. They seemed to have worked things out, but she knew Horatio too well. He would be happy to leave matters as they were, without fully resolving anything, but the hurt would still be there, underneath his skin.

Relief that her daughter had not ruined her marriage made Victoria very willing to help out in any way, and she was soon dispatched to the nearest store to stock up on supplies, while Mark kept an eye on his favourite daughter. She was pale, unnaturally so, but that could all be explained by tiredness and her recovery from her operation. At least, he considered, she appeared to have turned a corner in her mind, and was now looking forward, as opposed to always searching for someone else to blame.

She offered him a small smile when he made her a cup of hot chocolate and took a grateful sip of the hot liquid. "No one makes it like your old dad, huh?" It was a long-standing tradition between them that whenever Frankie was ill, or just feeling under the weather, her dad's hot chocolate would make her feel better. It was the liquid equivalent of a comfort blanket.

"Still the best," she agreed. She sighed, leaning her head back against the sofa. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Keep your temper." She shot him a rueful glance. "You and Mom always argue, but it's never serious."

Mark laughed and put his arm around her narrow shoulders. "Never serious? Frankie, we were just well practiced at keeping it from you kids. Your mom and I had some real fights, where I said some bloody awful things."

"But she always forgave you."

"Yeah, well, she loves me more than I deserve."

"I know that feeling," Frankie mumbled.

"It took me a long time, but I learnt my lesson and we came to an understanding. I wouldn't lose my temper, and she would always forgive me. When I can feel myself about to explode, I leave the room, simple as that." Mark smiled at his youngest daughter. "Then I go and run until I think I'm about to have a heart attack, or take it out on a punching bag, or anything else that will drain me. Then I go home, and your mom and I talk about whatever the problem is, as sensibly and as rationally as we can. It's not perfect, but it works for us."

Frankie nodded sadly. "And if you don't leave the room? If you do lose you temper?"

"I spend the next few days grovelling and apologising. Look, sweetheart, I know it's difficult, but your temper is your problem. Not your husband's. Try not to take it out on him. You've very lucky, you know. Horatio adores you, anyone can see that. Don't lose that. To find someone who wants to spend the rest of his life with you is a wonderful thing, Frankie. So you need to apologise sincerely to him, but remember, he wants to forgive you." Mark hugged her gently. "You two will be fine, I promise you."

"Thanks Dad." She was silent a moment and then smiled up at him. "Really, thanks. I know I don't always appreciate the advice, but you and Mom are the best. I wish I could have the chance to be like you." She blinked away a threatening tear and swallowed hastily.

Mark sighed and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I wish you could too." He paused, desperate for something to say to fill the dreadful silence. "So what do you say to a day of bad films and worse jokes with your dear old daddy? John Wayne is calling I think." Frankie rolled her eyes at his obvious diversionary tactics, and then settled down to watch a selection of her father's favourite Westerns, all involving John Wayne and impossible odds at one point or another.

* * *

Under strict instructions from Alexx, who told him in no uncertain terms that he looked like he was about to collapse, Horatio made it home at an almost-normal time. Well, for him anyway. He paused outside the door, unsure and nervous for a second. Nervous of his own wife. With a mental shake, he told himself to get a grip, and walked inside. The enticing smell of a Bolognese sauce combined with the soft lighting to stun him momentarily. Frankie appeared from the kitchen, tomato sauce splashed across her t-shirt, a triumphant look on her face.

"Good evening," she grinned brightly. "I haven't burnt anything yet!" Unable to help himself, he laughed. Frankie's culinary skills were basic in the extreme. She was adept at heating up microwave meals, and could fry an egg, but anything remotely challenging usually ended up crispy around the edges. He peered over her shoulder into the kitchen and was taken back to see it looking vaguely clean. Frankie's attempts at cooking usually resulted, not only in burnt food, but in a kitchen that resembled a war zone.

"This is a nice way to come home."

"You deserve a little taking care of," she said, shrugging awkwardly. "Why don't you go and have a bath and relax? This won't be ready for a while." She checked her watch. "I think."

"New recipe?"

"Old one. Mom talked me through it about four times this afternoon," she admitted. At his hesitant look, she added, "Go, relax. We can talk later on." He managed almost five steps before she called his name. He glanced over his shoulder and she gave him a wistful smile. "It's good to have you home."

"Good to be home," he answered honestly.

A long, hot bath later, and Horatio was feeling almost human again. He pulled on some worn tracksuit bottoms and an old t-shirt and, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while, walked back to the kitchen. Frankie was despondently prodding at the Bolognese sauce with a wooden spatula and looked around when he entered, tears glittering in her eyes.

"I only looked away for five minutes," she said, her voice trembling as she fought to hang on to her self-control. "And now it's gone all…" She prodded the sauce again, as if to illustrate her point. It looked like one solid lump now, with charred edges. "I can't do anything right!" She hung her head, tears leaking down her cheeks.

Horatio had her in his arms in an instant. "It's all right, it doesn't matter." Her head was on his shoulder and her hands came up slowly to cling to him. "Chess, it's OK."

She shook her head. "It's not," she insisted vehemently. "It's not all right. I can't cook, I'm useless at housework, and I can't do anything vaguely domestic! God, I couldn't even have our baby!" He winced at that comment and led her gently through to the lounge and pulled her down next to him on the settee.

"Listen to me, sweetheart." He tilted her face up, so that their eyes met. "You have done nothing wrong here, nothing at all. I _like_ take out – I've been a cop too long to not like it. And you're good at baked beans on toast." She shook her head, but there was a small smile on her face.

"And the baby?"

Horatio paused, his eyes downcast. "That wasn't your fault."

Frankie wiped away the last of her tears and gently took hold of his hand. "I'll make you a deal, Horatio. I'll stop blaming myself, if you stop blaming yourself. What do you say?"

He studied their entwined fingers for a long moment. "A fresh start?"

She shook her head once. "I don't think we can have a fresh start. We've both lost too much. But we can start a new chapter. What do you say?"

Horatio kissed her, gently at first, before she deepened the kiss, winding her arms around his neck. The world faded away for Frankie until there was nothing left but the feel of his lips on hers, the warmth of his body against hers and the hunger and need she tasted in his kiss. They broke apart, both breathing erratically, and she clung tightly to him, wishing they had done that a long time ago. Horatio's kisses healed wounds she hadn't known were there.

"I love you," she whispered against his neck, her breath warm on his skin.

"I love you too," he answered without hesitating. "You got a deal."

She laughed softly and snuggled a little closer to him, his arms protectively encircling her. "Even though I can't cook?"

"It's a good job I like pizza," he agreed solemnly, before laughing and kissing her again. Everything would work itself out, Frankie realised, as long as Horatio loved her.


	20. Epilogue

A/N: We finally reach the epilogue of this tale, and it's been a long time coming. Thank you to all my reviewers who have stuck with me despite the frequent delays, especially **Tenfour**, whose patience and encouragement have been much appreciated. I hope everyone enjoys the end of this story, and all reviews are always welcome.

* * *

_Nine months later_

Frankie was shattered. A double murder out in Coral Gables had been followed by an abduction of a five year old boy from his school, which had just been solved when a spate of bank robberies occurred. All in all, she considered, it had been a nightmare two weeks and she could only hope that Miami's criminals were as exhausted as she was. God knows, she could really do with a quiet week. It was eleven pm when she eventually made it home. Lights were on, showing Horatio had waited up for her. Or fallen asleep on the couch, she thought with a smile. He had pushed himself harder than anyone else – as usual – and it had only been due to constant reminders from her that he had remembered to eat or sleep at all.

Making her way through the house, she found him outside, leaning against the low fence that separated the patio area from the pool. She held her breath for a moment, trying to capture the moment in her memory perfectly: Horatio's lean form, pale and elegant in the moonlight. How could she have come so close to losing him? He noticed her presence and turned to greet her with a tired smile. "You finally managed to finish all that paperwork?"

"Just about," she replied with a groan, and went to stand beside him. "When did you get back?"

"About twenty minutes ago," he admitted, exhaustion hanging off every syllable. "What a fortnight."

"What a year," she said softly. He took hold of her hand and they stood silent for a moment, holding on to each other tightly, each acutely aware of how close they had come to the edge.

Horatio pulled her into a firm hug, his arms encircling her, protecting her against the world. Leaning her head against his chest, Frankie could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong, a comforting tattoo of love. "We made it through though," he said quietly. "And if we can make it through this last year, we can survive anything."

"I guess," she sighed.

Horatio leaned back and gently tipped her head up, so that she met his gaze. "We are stronger for this, Chess. Trust me. You and I have got through the worst thing that could have happened, and we are still here, still together. Nothing else matters, as long as we're together."

She smiled up at him. "I do love you."

"Good."

She laughed and kissed him lightly. It had been hard, but they had worked through the problems, the false starts and the nightmares, and had finally started to move forward. "I'll never forget her," she said softly. "I know we never really got a chance to get to know anything about her, but…."

"I know," he replied, a catch in his voice. "She was still our daughter, if only for those few months." It was Frankie's idea that they should not talk about 'the baby', but about Olivia, the daughter they never had. It seemed, however oddly, to have helped. Providing a focus for grief, if she was being professional and analysing the situation psychologically.

She stared up at the stars, blinking back sudden tears, trying to think of a way to change the subject. "Moon's bright tonight," she offered weakly. "It's not even a full moon." Horatio gave her an odd look and she shrugged awkwardly. He stared up at the stars, a thoughtful expression in his eyes.

"I read something once," he said absently. "About the stars. That it is only when all around is dark, when there is no other light available, that you can see the stars. I never really understood that until we lost Olivia."

"What do you mean?"

"Everything seemed lost; I thought I'd lost you as well as the baby. And yet, despite everything, we still made it through. In spite of all the darkness, there was always the star that was your love."

Frankie stood for a moment, stunned into silence by his words. Then she kissed him fiercely. "I have never deserved you," she said fervently. A stray tear trickled down her cheek, but she barely noticed. "And you're right. It's only when you think you've lost everything that you can really appreciate what you have." Like a perfect husband, she added in the privacy of her mind.

"What time is it?" Horatio asked suddenly.

Startled, Frankie looked at her watch. "Um, it's just gone midnight. Why?"

"Happy anniversary, Chess," he murmured, kissing her, holding her close.

"What?" Frankie frowned, checking her watch again. "Oh God, you're right! With this last fortnight, I'd totally forgotten!"

"I hadn't." Horatio was grinning, pleased to have surprised her. "Wait here." He disappeared into the house, leaving Frankie mystified and bemused. How could she have forgotten their anniversary? Two weeks ago, before the most compact crime wave to hit Miami in recent years, she had started to plan a special dinner for the two of them, but unfortunately the job had distracted her. She was smiling when he came back outside, hands behind his back.

Horatio's surprises were always worth waiting for. Considering the amount of time he spent at work, it never ceased to amaze her how he always came up with inspired suggestions for birthdays and Christmas presents. Christmas for the team had been a prime example. He had arranged for Frank, Eric and Ryan, and himself, to go paintballing for the day, resulting in four very bruised and drunk men, all of whom had thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Calleigh had initially protested at the open sexism of the present, but had squealed with delight when Horatio had present Alexx, Calleigh and Frankie with an all-expenses paid weekend at a top health spa.

"What is it?" she asked, almost bouncing with excitement.

"Greedy," he chided her, a smile on his lips. He handed her a velvet box, and she opened it gingerly, gasping as she saw what was inside. A white gold chain supported a diamond and emerald cross, large enough to sparkle brightly in the moonlight, delicate enough to weigh almost nothing as he helped her put it on. "Do you like it?" he asked anxiously.

"I love it. I love you," she answered, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a searing kiss. "I haven't got you anything though."

He lifted her left hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her wedding ring. "You're still wearing this. That's all the present I need."

"Oh, I think I can come up with something a little better," she laughed and kissed him again, sliding her hands up to start to unbutton his shirt. "Come with me, husband dearest." She tried a seductive smile, but ended up yawning. "OK, so maybe not tonight, but after a good eight hours sleep, I'll be ready for anything."

"Sounds like a challenge," he grinned, stifling a yawn himself. "Do you think the others would notice if we both called in sick tomorrow?"

"Who cares if they do? Let them think what they like," she smiled.

She shrieked in surprise as he picked her up, holding her easily. "Happy anniversary Chess."

"Happy anniversary Horatio." She buried her head in his chest as he carried her effortlessly into the house. Horatio was right: after making it through the last year, she was certain they could face any challenge and survive. After all, if they had each other, they had everything they needed.


End file.
